Truth Breeds Lies
by DizzyDG
Summary: When Ned Stark returns to Riverrun after Robert's Rebellion he presents Catelyn with two babies. He also presents her with a truth that will change everything. AU. Rated M.
1. Prologue: Promises

**A/N: **Hey guys!

I didn't expect to get this up so soon but I have a few chapters ready and I just thought I'd gauge the reaction by posting up the prologue. It should give you a feel for exactly how AU I'm planning on going this time around.

Also, you should be able to tell that I'm spanning more of Westeros and getting into the heads of more characters. With this in mind I'm sure you can understand that daily updates are unlikely. I will try and get at least two, if not three, chapters up a week.

Anyway, please let me know what you think of the prologue, any feedback would be fantastic!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing from GRRM's fabulous world of GoT. I only own this little idea of mine and any OC's that might crop up!

Please drop me a review and I hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Prologue: Promises**

* * *

_Dorne_

* * *

He staggered against the man, their swords pressed firmly against one another, neither one of them willing to give an inch. The walkway was littered with bodies, the flagstones running red with the blood of the fallen men. It was near done now, he could hear the clashing of another fight behind him but that was not his fight. This right here was his fight as he huffed, pushing away with everything he could against the man he was duelling. The knight staggered backwards then and he seized his chance. _This is for her,_ he thought to himself as he plunged his sword into the stomach of the man so hard it cut clean through his fine armour with a sickeningly metallic noise before it pierced his skin. He didn't scream in pain. His breathing was cut off almost in an instant, the gurgling noise at the back of his throat telling the victor he would be dead in seconds. Sure enough when the sword was pulled back from his body he fell to the floor and moved no more.

It took a second for the man standing above his lifeless body to remember why he was here. To remember the other fight that had been going on behind him. He turned sharply then and saw his friend pulling off his helm and wiping a hand across his brow, the final opponent dead at his feet. It had taken almost all his men to get this far and now only two of them remained. There were more not far away, camped in a secluded area just off the road so there would be a large enough group of them to return to King's Landing.

He swallowed hard then and looked at his friend who gave him an encouraging nod. He turned back to the tower then. The reason they were here was in there, he didn't even want to think about the state he would find her in. All that had happened. All the war and all the death had been for her. He wondered if she had any idea as he slowly walked along the walkway towards the door. Unsurprisingly it was locked and he turned back and searched the body of the nearest white cloak. He had a key on him and he straightened up and tried it in the lock. It turned easily and he pushed it open silently, the hinges not even creaking slightly.

The light inside was dim but he could make out the stairs and he took them two at a time, the further up them he got the more his heart pounded and before he knew it he was calling out her name. He got no response and fear gripped at him as he rose higher and higher up the tower, finally coming to the final floor, the door he was faced with closed but thankfully not locked as he turned the handle, still shouting her name. It faded to a whisper then as he fell through the door and caught sight of her.

"Lyanna," he whispered, her eyes were already on his but they were full of tears.

"Ned," she managed to say back, her voice so weak he could barely hear it.

Somehow he managed to put one foot in front of the other and approach her, the slight whimpering that did not come from her confirming his fears as he came closer. She seemed to be using all the strength she had left to cling to the bundle of blankets in her arms. The bed was soaked in blood and Ned felt sick, sicker than he had when he had stepped along the walkway and felt his boots sticking to the stones. This was his sister. What had that monster done to his sister?

"Ned," she gasped out again, "Ned you have to take him"

"What did he do to you Lia?" he asked her, his eyes darker than usual as he stared down at her.

"Take him … take him … he needs to be with … his … father," she managed.

"Lia …?" he shook his head, kneeling on the bed and putting a shaking hand to her clammy forehead.

"I'm … sorry I … ran … I broke my … promise," she choked.

"What do you mean ran?" he questioned her, his brow furrowing.

"I love … him … Ned," she said and he saw her hold even more tightly to the baby in her arms.

"Rhaegar?" he asked and she could only manage a faint nod.

"Promise me … you will take … Jon … to him," she said then, her voice fading further.

"Lyanna … I don't …" he started but stopped himself. How could he tell her now she was dying?

"Promise me Ned!" she said desperately, a coughing fit taking over her.

"I …" he staggered over the words. If anyone knew about this her son would die.

"I know father … must be … angry … and Brandon … oh Gods … he will be … furious …" she gasped.

"No," he said, shaking his head and stroking her hair soothingly, "no one's angry with you," that part at least was true.

She seemed soothed by his words and closed her eyes at his touch, her laboured breathing the only thing that told him she was holding on to life as she lay so still. The baby squirmed in his blanket then and let out an insistent cry and her eyes fluttered open again at once. Ned's eyes stung with tears at the look of regret and pain that crossed her features as she looked down on her boy, shifting him up closer to her. It looked like it cost her a lot of effort and so Ned moved to help her and she pressed a kiss to her baby's forehead, before her own head dropped heavily back against the pillows.

"Keep him safe," she implored him then, "safe until … until you can … get him to Rhaegar … will you … will you promise me Ned?"

"I promise," he assured her, pressing his lips firmly together to stop the tears escaping.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered again, her eyes fluttering closed.

"I promise," he told her again but she didn't hear him.

The tears leaked from his eyes then as he stared down at her, her chest no longer rising and falling and her face as pale and beautiful as freshly fallen snow. He leant closer to her and pressed his lips to her forehead, his tears falling down onto her still face as he pulled away slowly, the cries of the boy still clamped in her arms rousing him. He looked at the baby then, his face all scrunched up as he cried. The light sprinkling of hair on his head was dark and he could see that his eyes would be too once they changed from their baby blue. _Thank the Gods. _

With shaking hands he picked up the bundle and rocked him gently. The baby began to calm somewhat, only soft whimpers leaving his tiny little lips now and Ned couldn't help but smile slightly as he looked down on him. Keep him safe. That's what Lyanna had asked of him. That had been the dying wish of his sister. Keep him safe. There was only one way that he could do that now and his heart panged uncomfortably as he thought of his wife. Would Catelyn ever forgive him? Could she?

He forced her beautiful image from his mind as he rose up from the bed and cradled Jon against his chest, his heart beating furiously as he thought of his own son. The son he had yet to meet and hold like this. Robb would be much bigger than Jon, he had received news of his birth months ago, just before the Battle of the Trident. It would have been so easy to ride back to Riverrun once it was done with but he had had to ride instead to Dorne. He had to bring Lyanna home. He glanced back towards the bed then and swallowed hard. She would still be going home, he would make sure of that. He tore his eyes away from the sight of her body then and his eyes were caught by what sat atop the table in the corner. Roses. Blue winter roses. He could tell even though they were wilted and dying, the edge of the petals crisp, some of them having already dropped to the floor. They had been her favourites; blue winter roses.

* * *

_Riverrun_

* * *

Catelyn regretfully tore her eyes from her son who was kicking his legs up in the air and grabbing onto his tiny feet with his hands, a happy smile on his face as he gurgled up at her. There was a commotion in the hallway and she stood up to cross to the door to see what was going on. A maid was rushing passed as she opened it and she called out to stop her at once.

"What is it? What's going on?" she asked her.

"Banners approaching milady," the maid answered.

"Stark banners?" she questioned, her heart thudding in her chest.

"No milady, Arryn," the girl told her and Catelyn tried not to make her disappointment obvious.

"Thank you," she said and the maid smiled sympathetically at her before continuing on down the hall.

Catelyn turned back into her own chambers then and closed the door, leaning back against the wood and taking a few breaths to compose herself. For one shining second she had thought that her husband would soon be arriving. That she would have to bundle Robb back up in his swaddling and wrap him up tight to take him out into the courtyard to await the arrival of his father. But it wasn't Ned, it was Jon Arryn who was approaching, riding back to claim his wife before he took up the position as Hand of the King. She tried not to feel bitter and jealous of her sister but it was difficult not to. The war was over. Ned should have returned. She needed her husband back and her son needed his father.

His squawking drew her attention then and she crossed back over to the cradle and looked down on him, the smile tugging on her lips the way it always did when her eyes looked down on her baby. He was such a strong boy, the Maester was thrilled with him. He fed well and his eyes were always bright and curious as he gazed around at his surroundings. He favoured her Tully colouring, his auburn curls several shades darker than her own, his eyes the exact blue that stared back at her in the mirror. Robb was utterly perfect, the single most precious thing she had ever laid eyes on. The very definition of love.

Oh how she wanted Ned to come back so he could feel it too.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Your daughter has arrived my Lord," the squire bowed to him and he looked up from his desk.

"Send her in," he said and the man bowed low before disappearing.

Tywin sat back in his chair then and sighed in satisfaction. It had taken some persuading but Robert had seen it his way in the end. A King must have a Queen after all and Lyanna Stark was dead. There must be some kind of cold irony in that, Tywin thought. The very cause for war had been snuffed out herself. Not that it mattered much to him, the death of the Stark girl meant nothing but being able to further the cause of his own house. He wouldn't be Hand anymore but that mattered little if his grandson would one day be King of the Seven Kingdom's.

The door opened then and his daughter swept in. He smiled in satisfaction at her, he had once hoped Rhaegar Targaryen would take an interest in her but it was for the best now that he hadn't. He thought of the Princess Elia and her children, and of what the new King was riding to Dragonstone to do and silently thanked the Gods that Rhaegar had not wanted Cersei. She stood patiently before him, already holding herself so regally, and his satisfied smile grew wider.

"You're to be Queen," he told her after a moment and her green eyes widened a fraction.

"Truly?" she asked him and he nodded, a smile spreading across her face at his action.

"You're to be married when the King returns from Dragonstone," he informed her.

It was her turn to nod then, her mind spinning with what her father had told her. She was to be Queen, she was to be Robert Baratheon's wife, the man who had started a rebellion to reclaim the woman he loved. That woman was dead now though and Cersei was very much alive. Her beauty would bewitch him she was sure of it. He would fall in love with her and forget the boring Stark girl. How could he not? She would be his wife, the mother of his children. The thought made her giddy and she worked hard to not let it show on her face.

"When will that be?" she asked her father then.

"When he had done what he set out to," he told her and she frowned.

"Why has he gone to Dragonstone?" she questioned.

"To deal with the last Targaryen's," he replied and her eyebrows raised slightly at his hidden meaning.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Ned dismounted his horse and hurried up the steps of the keep at once. Gods he hoped he was not too late. They had met some of the Kings men on the road, some stragglers behind the main group and they had told him where Robert was going. They didn't need to tell him anymore, he knew at once why his friend was riding to Dragonstone and he wasn't about to let it happen. Not again.

"I want that fucking Targaryen cunt found!" he heard the familiar bellow as he ran down hallway after hallway, bursting into the chambers that Robert was occupying.

"Ned!" the man burst out in surprise.

"Don't do it," Ned said at once and Robert stared at him.

"Can't do anything, the little bastard has escaped," Robert snarled and he felt relief flood him; "We still have the girl though," Robert said then and Ned's heart dropped.

"A babe!" Ned gasped as a shaking wet nurse was marched into the room, a baby clamped tightly in her arms.

"A _Targaryen _babe," Robert emphasised.

"You can't be serious Robert!" Ned protested.

"She's a threat!" he snapped.

"She's a babe at the breast! The war is over! Stop this madness!" Ned insisted.

"Her blood carries madness, best stop the poison spreading," Robert said.

"Not again! Not after Elia's children – the people won't stand for it! They may forgive for the others but not this, not now the war is done!" Ned implored him.

"She's a threat to _my _throne!" he growled.

"Only if you let her be … show mercy Robert … a King must show mercy lest he be known as a tyrant," Ned insisted.

"So what would you have me do Ned? Bundle her up and take her to the Capitol and raise her as my own?" he asked mockingly.

"No … no of course not," Ned shook his head.

"The what?!" Robert snapped at him, finally meeting his eyes.

"Let me take her … I can take her to the North, she can be my ward," he said after a moment.

"Are you mad Ned?" Robert almost laughed.

"I can make sure she's raised right … to know that you are the rightful King," Ned insisted.

"You're a damn fool Ned," he said, shaking his own head now.

"Is that a yes?" Ned asked almost desperately.

"If you have to … but one sniff of trouble and I want that girl put down you hear me?!" Robert snarled.

"There will be no trouble," Ned assured him.

"There better not be," Robert finished, a threatening edge to his voice as they met eyes again.

Ned kept his eyes on his for a long moment before finally turning away from Robert and approaching the wet nurse who was still clamped firmly between two guards. He could see her wincing slightly at the strong grip the men had on her but her own arms stayed securely around the baby. Ned started to think about what he had just done as he walked towards them, he'd now be presenting Catelyn with two babies. Funnily enough he imagined he would accept the little Targaryen babe a lot quicker than she would accept Jon … if she would ever accept Jon. He shook his head then to clear it of that troublesome thought as he came to a stop in front of the wet nurse.

"Unhand her," he said to the guards and they hesitated for a moment before doing as he asked; "What is her name?" he asked the shaking girl then.

"Dany … my Lord," the girl told him, "Daenerys Targaryen"

"Hand her to me," he said, holding his arms out but the girl hesitated, her grip tightening on Dany; "I won't hurt her … she will be safe with me," he promised.

"But who will feed her … take care of her?" the girl asked almost desperately.

"It will be taken care of," Ned assured her, she could share with Jon until they reached Riverrun.

"Please … my Lord, would you consider allowing me to come too?" she asked him.

"To the North?" he questioned in surprise, not many southerners ventured up there willingly.

"Yes," she said, her voice shaking slightly as she met his eyes for a moment before they slid to the men who had held her and Ned too saw the hungry expression in their eyes.

"If you're sure," he said quietly, "what's your name?"

"Loral my Lord," she curtseyed slightly.

"We leave in an hour, make sure you're both ready," he told her.

* * *

_Riverrun_

* * *

Edmure was making a racket as he crashed down the hallway. Catelyn jumped up in irritation and went straight for the door, she had just got Robb to sleep and she would be damned if her little brother woke him up again. He hadn't been sleeping well at all since a tooth had been threatening to poke out of his gums, he had taken to hauling himself onto his knees and gnawing at the edge of his cradle. The Maester told her it was normal but it looked anything but to Catelyn. He seemed to chew on anything he could get his hands on when he was sat up in the nursery surrounded by toys and pillows. Robb could hold himself up well now and rarely teetered but she was still worried about him toppling over onto the hard stone floor.

She wrenched open the door then and saw her brother practically skipping down the hallway towards her exclaiming so many things at once that she could not make out a word of it. Whatever it was he needed to be quiet now.

"Will you shut up," she hissed as she marched towards him, "Robb is sleeping"

"Sorry Cat," he apologised, "it's just … banners have been sighted"

"Banners?" she repeated stupidly.

"Stark banners … with the wolf!" he exclaimed again and she hushed him at once.

"Ned," she whispered then.

* * *

Catelyn stayed in the entrance hall twisting her hands together until she heard the sound of hooves against the stones of the courtyard. She took a deep breath then and swallowed hard before making her way out of the doors. Robb was still in the nursery, she was loathe to wake him when he so rarely slept and she hoped that Ned wouldn't be annoyed with her. Knowing Ned he would prefer to meet his son in private anyway, far away from the prying eyes of the people of Riverrun. Her eyes scanned the courtyard for him as she made her way carefully down the steps. Eventually she saw him, dismounting at the side of a carriage which she frowned at the sight of. He came towards her then – was it her imagination or did he have a slightly apprehensive look in his eyes?

"Cat," he greeted, his voice sounding almost relieved.

"Ned," she smiled back at him and in the next instant his arms were around her.

"Where is he? Where's our boy?" he asked then and she pulled out of his warm embrace.

"In the nursery," she told him, "I'm sorry … I would have brought him out but he is sleeping and he has been getting so little of it that last days as he has a tooth coming"

"A tooth?" Ned repeated wonderingly, "Gods I have missed so much"

"He's strong Ned … everyone says it," she said proudly and his lips twitched up.

"Thank the Gods," he said then and she saw that strange look in his eyes again.

She was about to tell him that she would take him up to see Robb when the carriage opened and a woman stepped carefully down with a bundle in her arms. Catelyn knew at once that it was a baby but for the life of her she could not work out why Ned would have brought women and children back with him. He had come from war … why were they here? She looked at him quizzically then and he steeled himself. This was it.

"We have another addition," he said and her eyes widened.

"I don't understand," she stated.

"This is Dany … Daenerys Targaryen," he said, pulling back the blankets so Catelyn could see the baby girl in Loral's arms.

"Targaryen?" she repeated.

"She's to be our ward … it was that or …" he tailed off and Catelyn understood at once.

"You should take her inside," she said to Loral then, "one of the maids will show you up to the nursery"

"Thank you my Lady," Loral curtseyed before making her way carefully towards the keep.

"Thank you," Ned said gratefully.

"She's an orphaned girl … an innocent babe, did you think I would turn her away?" she asked in slight amusement.

"No of course not, I just …" he started but cut off as another woman came down from the carriage with another baby.

"Gods Ned! How many wards are we taking?!" Catelyn laughed then, stepping towards the woman before he could caution her and pushing the blankets aside herself.

She froze when she peered down at the baby, his eyes blinking inquisitively up at her. Grey eyes. Stark eyes. She snapped her head back to Ned then and saw the look on his face and it took all her poise and strength not to break down and cry. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream and rage and tell him he was a liar. It was Brandon, they told her, Brandon would be the one to break her heart and take mistress after mistress. Then, when she was to be married to Ned instead they told her she was lucky, that he was good and honourable. Faithful. He would keep his vows. She met his eyes then, the same eyes as this baby. Liar's eyes.

He grabbed her arm lightly as she made to march passed him but let go quickly at the look that flashed in her deep blue eyes when they met his.

"You promised me Ned," she said venomously, "I don't want that child anywhere near my son do you hear me?"

All he could do was nod then and he saw her beautiful accusing eyes fill with tears before she tore them away from his and marched back towards the keep.

* * *

Lord Tully eventually came into the room that Ned was awkwardly occupying. He didn't know where his wife was and he didn't know where his son was. He knew nothing about the layout of Riverrun save where the main hall was and where the Sept was. He couldn't even remember the room that he and Catelyn had shared for that one heavenly night and he was ashamed at his forgetfulness. When he looked up into the eyes of his good-father he instantly wanted to look away again. They were Catelyn's eyes and they were just as accusing.

"Please," Ned said before Hostor could speak, "I have not even seen my son yet"

His good-father frowned at him slightly but Ned could see the conflict in his eyes and eventually the older man sighed in evident frustration and nodded his head slightly, gesturing him to follow. Ned did as he was told and dared not say anything else as they walked down hallway after hallway. The silence was almost crushing him and he could barely stand it. Just when he thought he could take no more they came to a stop outside a door.

"He's in there," Hostor told him, "mind you don't wake him now or Cat will be furious … mind … she already is," he finished and Ned flushed in shame.

"I'm sorry," Ned told him.

"It's not me who needs your grovelling Lord Stark," he almost snapped before walking away.

Ned pushed open the door carefully then, his eyes wandering right over Loral who was rocking Dany in an armchair and fixed on the cradle at the other side of the room. His heart was pounding and he barely heard Loral as she made her apologies and excuses to leave him alone with his boy. _His _boy. His heart soared at the mere thought of it as he finally came close enough to be able to peer into the cradle. He was sleeping. He was tiny. Bigger still than Dany and Jon but still tiny in Ned's eyes. He favoured his mother, his hair darker than hers but still unmistakably Tully. His nose could be Stark Ned supposed, and perhaps his lips as well. He wondered what colour his eyes were then as he watched him sleeping, resisting the urge to reach down and touch his tiny hand.

The door opened behind him then and he didn't turn. He somehow knew it was Catelyn and he didn't have it in him to look her in the eyes yet. Conflict was raging in him and he had no idea which side would win out. Loyalty to his wife or loyalty to his dead sister. Did it even have to be a choice?

_You promised me Ned! _Catelyn accused him.

_Promise me Ned. _Lyanna's dying words.

_You promised me Ned!_ Could he live with her hating him forever?

"He's not mine," he said then before he could stop himself.

"What?" Catelyn whispered so quietly he barely heard her; "you dare say that to me after what you've done? I know he favours my colouring but he is your son Ned!"

"Not Robb," he soothed her at once, finally turning away from the cradle to look at her; "Jon"

"That boy?" she questioned, her tone hard.

"He's not mine," he told her again.

"You expect me to believe that?" she almost snorted.

"He's Lyanna's," he said quietly and she stared at him, he could see her mind working it out and as her eyes widened he knew she had got there.

"Rhaegar?" she breathed, her eyes flickering to the door before she took several paces towards him.

"No one can know Cat," he said firmly, gripping the top of her arms, "no one"

"No one," she agreed, meeting his eyes, "not ever"

"Not ever," he nodded.

"He's yours," she said then and he swallowed hard.

"He's mine," he agreed.

A noise from behind Ned roused them both then and their eyes left one another's, Ned turning to look down into the cradle where his son was wide awake and kicking his blankets furiously away from him. Robb ceased what he was doing as he caught sight of his father, his bright blue eyes shining in confusion for a moment before his lips broke into a wide gummy smile. Ned's heart soared and Catelyn saw the look of wonder in his eyes as he bent down to lift Robb carefully into his arms.

"Meet your son," she smiled then, blinking rapidly to stop the tears coming.

"My son," he breathed against Robb's soft head, "my boy, my _only_ boy."

* * *

**A/N: **So yeah ... that's how AU. Hope you liked it. Please let me know.

I will most likely put the first proper chapter up on Friday/Saturday.

:)


	2. The Royal Announcement

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it.

Just a few guest thank yous first.

**Pop: **I'm glad you like the idea and the prologue, hope you continue to enjoy!

**Fear: **Thank you, glad you liked it. Don't worry, I won't be doing that pairing!

On with the chapter now, thoughts would be amazing as always. I'll try and get another chapter up for you all early next week!

:)

* * *

**The Royal Announcement**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Ned I am not even sure I want Robb with one let alone Rickon!"

"Cat please, have you seen how happy they are?" Ned questioned her exasperatedly.

"They are _direwolves _Ned, were puppies too dull?" she demanded.

He almost laughed then but he knew that would only get him into more trouble. Thankfully he was saved from having to say anything else by the door opening and Robb slipping into the room with one of the little pups in his arms. Ned let his eyes slide to Catelyn's then and saw they were narrowed slightly at the thing in Robb's arms that was little more than a ball of fluff. _They will grow Ned! _

"I'm sorry," Robb apologised, "father … would you mind coming out to the yard? Bran needs some _encouragement _with the bow"

"I thought you and Jon were teaching him," Ned said, slight amusement underlying his tone.

"We can't do anymore," he sighed, "please?"

"Alright," Ned huffed in mock irritation then and his eldest son grinned widely.

"Do you want to hold Grey Wind mother?" Robb asked Catelyn then and Ned watched her reaction as her eyes narrowed slightly.

Robb seemed unperturbed though and approached his mother, shifting the pup up so his tiny front paws rested on his arm, his face visible to Catelyn. The wolf let out a tiny yap then and Ned could see that Catelyn was softening despite herself, the corners of her mouth threatening to twitch up. Robb moved even closer then and she sighed heavily in defeat and raised her hand up to lightly stroke the top of the pups head. Ned smiled then and saw that Robb too was grinning widely. Ned was sure that his wife would have further concerns once the pups began to grow bigger but for now at least she was placated.

"Do you really think you will be able to train them?" she asked Robb seriously then.

"I don't see why not," he grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back up at him.

"Come on then … tiltyard," Ned interrupted then, inclining his head towards the door.

Both he and Robb made to leave then but the door was opening before they had even reached it and Maester Luwin entered looking grave.

"Forgive me my Lords, my Lady," he inclined his head to them all, "I have just received a raven from King's Landing"

"What news?" Ned asked and Catelyn could hear the edge of fear in his voice.

"Jon Arryn is dead," the Maester said gently and she felt her eyes widen and fix on her husband whose back was still to her.

"How?" Ned managed then and she took a few steps closer to him and lay her hand gently on the small of his back.

"A fever took him suddenly my Lord," the Maester said and Ned sighed heavily.

"I am so sorry my love," Catelyn murmured quietly then.

"There is further news," Maester Luwin continued then.

"My sister?" Catelyn demanded and he shook his head.

"There is no mention of her … the King in travelling north," he told them and Ned stiffened under her touch, "with the Queen and all the court"

"He's coming all this way?" Robb finally spoke, a frown creasing his brow, "why?"

"There is only one thing he wants," Ned said heavily.

"You can always say no, Ned," Catelyn told him firmly, her voice shaking slightly.

* * *

"Dany?!"

The familiar voice called her name repeatedly, coming closer and closer to where she was laying but she didn't reply. She had hoped she would have a little longer out in the gardens by herself. She reached her hand up then and took hold of one of the smaller branches above her head to pull herself back up into a sitting position. Looking down she could see the grass but no sign of him yet even though his voice was getting closer.

"Dany?!" he finally appeared beneath her, she could see the top of his dark auburn head.

"Up here Robb," she said, finally putting him out of his misery.

He cursed loudly then and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped her mouth as she made her way down the tree. His face was stern when she finally placed her feet back on solid ground and she wondered if she had made a mistake in scaring him. Had something happened? Before she could ask he had told her.

"My father just got a raven from the Capitol, the King is coming," he said and her heart pounded.

"Why?" she asked, the only question she could think of.

"No doubt to ask my father to become Hand of the King," Robb said slightly moodily.

"Oh," she managed, resisting the urge to reach out and pat him reassuringly on the arm.

"What were you doing up there anyway?" he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

"Thinking," she told him.

"Of?" he questioned.

"Nothing," she smiled.

"Nothing?" he repeated sceptically.

"Sometimes it's nice to think of nothing," she told him and he rolled his eyes.

"Come on … it's almost time for dinner," he said, holding his arm out.

Dany took it as she had done hundreds of times before and they ambled slowly in step back towards the keep. Robb didn't say anything and she was glad of it as her mind was racing with what he had just told her. The King was coming. The King that hated her family; that had near destroyed it. Of course she knew why he had done it, her Septa and the Maester had taught her all about it. Her father had been a tyrant. Her brother had stolen away Robert's betrothed. She thought of Princess Elia then and her children but quickly stopped, it made her feel sick. No one had an explanation for that brutality. Lord Stark had told her himself that he had been disgusted. It was the doing of Lannister men though. Dany wondered if any of them would be coming to Winterfell and she shuddered, hoping that they weren't.

"What is it?" Robb asked her then, noticing that she was chewing on her bottom lip.

"When will the King arrive?" she asked.

"In a month most like," he told her.

"Right," she said distractedly.

"It will be alright Dany," he assured her, "nothing will happen to you, you're our ward, this is your home and you belong here."

* * *

_The King's Road_

* * *

"I still don't understand it," Cersei hissed.

"Really?" Jaime asked her, it made perfect sense to him.

"Father is the obvious choice," she said insistently.

"Father betrayed the last King that he was the Hand of," he pointed out.

"But Ned Stark?" she said mockingly, "What in the name of the Gods can Robert see in him?"

"He trusts him," Jaime said, bored of the conversation now.

"Trust is foolish," his sister spat and he raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Have you always been this cynical?" he asked her.

"What do you expect?! Especially after Jon Arryn!" she spat.

Jaime sighed then, he wondered how long it would be before she brought up Jon Arryn. When she had summoned him to her chambers he had been expecting something else entirely, not for her to be striding up and down ranting on about the new Hand of the King. Personally Jaime didn't think that Ned Stark would take the job, but if he did he was sure he wouldn't be half as nosy as Jon Arryn had been. Foolish man, he had looked into matters that didn't concern him and he had paid the price. Jaime wasn't entirely sure who had made sure he never woke from his fever but he was fairly certain that Littlefinger had been involved. Petyr Baelish and Cersei were a rather formidable match, and a rather dangerous one too Jaime had to admit.

Whatever had happened no one had suspected a thing, no one apart from Jon Arryn's widow it seemed. Lysa had fled the Capitol with her young son and holed herself up in the Eyrie where it would be next to impossible to get to her. Cersei didn't seem concerned, she thought the woman was mad, and although Jaime conceded she had a point, Lysa was still Catelyn Stark's sister. If she had sent word to Ned Stark's wife about whatever suspicions she had then things at Winterfell might turn out to be much more interesting that Jaime anticipated them to be.

"He does this on purpose," Cersei seethed as loud moans of a woman drifted through the walls.

"Ignore him," Jaime advised.

"Another whore no doubt, the Gods know he can't really satisfy a woman," she spat.

"Ignore him," he said more loudly.

"The drunken old letch," she continued and Jaime grabbed her hand as she passed by him.

"Come here," he demanded, pulling her towards him, "and ignore him"

"Jaime … not here … he's too close," she protested as he pulled her down to straddle him.

"He's otherwise engaged," he said offhandedly, gathering her skirts up and slipping a hand under them to trail up her thigh.

She sighed softly then and he smiled, he liked her much better when she was like this, when they were together like this with no thoughts of anyone else. He let his fingers tease at her then and she dropped her head to his shoulder to stifle her moan in the leather of his jacket.

"See?" he breathed in her ear as he continued his motion, "you just need to relax."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb clashed his sword against Jon's then and his brother staggered slightly but managed to block the blow and regain his balance. Jon then struck further left that Robb thought he would and he had to move rather awkwardly to block the blow, his own feet scuffing slightly in the dust of the tiltyard. Again they clashed swords before taking a step back as one and circling one another again, both of their eyes searching for any sign of weakness, just waiting to strike.

Dany stood with Bran on the edge of the yard and watched them as they went for one another again. She already knew it would end in a draw. It always did when Robb and Jon sparred with one another so really there was no point in her watching. She couldn't help it though, she loved to watch them. Loved to watch him. Watching him in the tiltyard gave her an innocent reason to not tear her eyes away from him. She swallowed then and glanced at Bran who was engrossed in the fight. It did no good to think of Robb the way she was, he was a man grown now at eighteen and likely Lord Stark would be finding a match for him soon enough. Perhaps one of the Ladies that came with the Royal court would catch his eye and be deemed suitable?

Robb was the heir to Winterfell and the North after all, he could not be married to just anyone. Duty came first. The thought made Dany rather bitter as the sparring session came to an end and she looked up and forced a smile to her face as Jon and Robb walked grinning towards her, clapping one another on the back as they approached.

"You drew again," Bran said unnecessarily.

"Surprised?" Jon asked him, breathing rather harder than usual.

"Surely you didn't expect anything else?" Robb added, wiping the back of his hand across his brow.

"I think everyone knows by now to expect nothing more," Dany quipped and Robb grinned at her.

"I'm starving," Jon said then.

"Aye," Robb agreed, "surely dinner will be out by now"

"I would expect so," Dany said, "Serra! Are you joining us?!" she called out to a girl stood a little way away from them.

The younger girl nodded shyly and wandered over slightly apprehensively. Dany smiled widely at her and took her arm as she joined them, walking in step with her towards the keep. Serra was Loral's daughter and Dany thought of her as a little sister. Loral had been as good as a mother to her since the day she had been born, and even when she married Jory Cassel and moved out of the keep she still came to her every day. Dany loved her immensely and she loved her children Serra and Joren as well. Serra was only fifteen and Dany knew well enough why she was currently so quiet at her side when she would usually be so chatty. It was because Jon was around. Everyone in Winterfell knew that the young girl was completely infatuated with him, everyone it seemed except Jon himself.

* * *

Ned was tense, Catelyn could see how stiffly he was lying in bed as she readied herself, brushing her hair through as she sat in front of her vanity. She sighed heavily when she was done and moved to the bed, climbing in beside him and snuggling herself immediately at his side. She was somewhat comforted when his own arms came around her but she could still feel how tense he was as she wrapped herself around him.

"What is it my love?" she asked him and it was his turn to sigh.

"This visit … it's putting me on edge," he confessed and she tightened her hold on him.

"What are you worried about?" she questioned, although she had a good idea.

"Dany … Jon … what he's going to ask of me," Ned confessed.

"You can always say no," she told him again and his arms tightened around him.

"I know," he breathed and she felt his lips kiss her hair, "but he will still be here … around them"

"He cannot suspect a thing about Jon," she said certainly, "and he knows about Dany"

"I know," he said again but she could still hear the tone of worry in his voice.

"Perhaps we should keep them out of sight as much as possible?" she suggested then, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

"Perhaps," he agreed heavily and she knew he wasn't happy with her suggestion.

She wasn't at all happy with it herself. She knew that Dany would understand, the girl might even be glad of it, Catelyn knew she could hardly be relishing the thought of coming face to face with Robert. Jon would be hurt though, she could almost imagine the look of hurt that would cross his face when she told him. She had to tell him herself but it pained her that she wouldn't be able to explain why. Of course she could make up some excuse about not wanting to insult the Queen – it was well known of course that Robert had countless bastards, something his wife wouldn't want to be reminded of.

"He'll understand," Ned said then, seeing the conflicted look in his wife's eyes.

"I hope so," she said sadly, leaning her head back down against his chest.

"He will," Ned promised her and she let herself believe him, her eyes growing heavy as she lay so contentedly in her husband's embrace.

When her breaths evened out Ned knew that she had fallen asleep and he breathed a satisfied sigh against the top of her head. He wished he could be as easily placated and close his eyes in a peaceful sleep. There was too much raging around his head though and he didn't seem to be able to sort any of it out. Dany he was worried for but he knew she would more than likely be happy to stay well out of Robert's way – he only hoped the King wouldn't show too much interest in her. Jon was another matter, he was terrified of Robert meeting his eyes and recognising him for who he truly was. There was no reason for him to, he knew that if he was being honest. He thanked the Gods that Jon so favoured his mother and that Lyanna and himself had looked so alike. Jon looked like his son, and as far as everyone was concerned he _was _his son.

Only Catelyn knew the truth and he couldn't help but smile as he thought of the beautiful, loving wife that was laying so contentedly in his arms. He had never wanted anyone but her, she was more than enough for him, far more than he felt he deserved. It pained him that she was in turmoil over Jon but she was right, the best thing to do was to keep him out of sight as much as possible. He knew that Catelyn would insist on telling him herself and he knew how hard it would be for her. She loved Jon as much as any of her own. Jon had always known that she was not his mother but she acted the part and Ned knew that he thought of her as his mother. When he was five he had tripped over in the courtyard and ripped the skin from his knees. He had screamed and screamed and it was Catelyn that he had wanted, only she had been able to calm him down enough that he would let the Maester look at his injury.

Catelyn had rocked him in her arms then as the wounds were cleaned up and bandaged and he had hiccoughed in her embrace and called her mother. It had been an innocent slip from a young boy who was in need of comfort but it nearly broke Catelyn's heart. She had gently reminded him that she was not his mother and had somehow managed to keep herself composed until Jon was fixed up and had been put to bed. She broke down once she was alone with Ned though, she had cried and cried and cried and he could find no words to soothe her. Jon might not be her son but she loved him just as fiercely as she did her true children. Ned was glad that her devotion to him meant that Jon had rarely asked about his real mother. He had been curious as a child but as he grew towards manhood he mentioned her less and less. He was more than content for Catelyn to play the role, he had never wanted for a mother's love because he already had it.

* * *

_The King's Road_

* * *

Cersei couldn't sleep. Jaime may have distracted her for a time but he was gone now and she was alone in the vast bed, the space on the other side of her empty and cold. Just like her marriage, she thought wryly, a bitter smile gracing her lips. They would be at Winterfell soon enough. She had never visited the North before. She had never wanted to and she still didn't want to. The choice wasn't hers though it was her drunken fool of a husband's. He was determined to have Ned Stark as his Hand and what Robert wanted Robert got. Well, almost all, she thought with another small smile as she thought of her beautiful golden haired children.

She had never planned it to be that way, she had planned on loving Robert, on being an attentive and a devoted Queen and wife. It had been him who had spoiled it. He had crushed all her hopes and dreams on their wedding night, coming drunk to her bed and forcing his body atop hers. His weight had almost squeezed the life from her as pain throbbed between her legs. When she closed her eyes she could still feel it, the way he had pounded into her over and over as she lay there in agony, tears streaming from her eyes and blood dripping down her thighs. That pain had been nothing though compared with the pain of him whispering that woman's name in her ear as he came to his climax and spilled himself inside her.

He came every night after that and she lay there and let him assault her body over and over again. He never whispered that name again but he could not erase the memory of it. He didn't even try. Cersei had done her best to love him, sometimes, a light would shine from him and sometimes it would be directed towards her. Like when she told him she was with child for the first time. He had stopped coming to her bed then and she hadn't minded it at all. It didn't matter that he didn't come at night because he was so attentive during the day. In those months that she grew bigger and bigger with child she almost deluded herself into thinking that he loved her too. That he had forgotten Lyanna Stark, the dead woman that he pined for and finally realised that he had a living, loving Queen by his side who was _real_.

She kept deluding herself, so giddy and pleased with herself when she delivered him a son, black-haired and squalling as he came from her body. Robert had been beside himself with glee, he had showered gifts and kind words on her and cooed over the tiny baby. Her heart swelled until it was fit to burst. Then it did. It burst the day she went to lift her boy from his cradle and felt him hot and sweating under her touch. For three days he clung on and for three days she sat by his side and prayed. Robert sat with her and they said nothing, she was glad he was there though and she could only imagine that he was happy she was too. When the final breath left his tiny body Robert flew into a rage, he beat his knuckles bloody against the stone walls before he crushed her into his arms.

It hurt. Gods it hurt so much but part of her hoped that their shared tragedy would bring them closer together. She had been wrong. Robert didn't seek comfort with her he sought it between the legs of his whores and she retreated in on herself, her love for him slowly turning to hate. The day they buried her son was the day she finally buried her heart far from the reach of Robert Baratheon.


	3. The King's Request

**A/N: **New chapter!

Got some guests to thank again first.

**Guest#1: **Sorry the idea of a Robb/Dany pairing is so unappealing for you. Hopefully it won't put you off the story because that's just one little part of it!

**Guest#2: **A much more positive reaction to Robb/Dany. Glad you like the pairing but you might have to be patient for them to get together.

**Guest#3: **Thank you so much for such a long and detailed review. I really enjoyed reading your thoughts on the story so far and I'm so glad that you're enjoying it. All I will say with regard to your last few points is that certain fates will change! ;)

**Guest#4: **Your wish is my command! But you might have to wait a while for it to happen!

Right! Onwards with the story, here's the new chapter and I hope you all enjoy it.

Please let me know, thoughts as always are very much appreciated.

:)

* * *

**The King's Request**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Bran saw them first as he peered over the rooftops, he grinned widely at the procession of people that were trickling down the road towards Winterfell. He could see the stag banners fluttering and the carriage coming into sight as he turned his eyes from the road and pulled himself up to his feet. He balanced carefully along the rooftops, easily clambering down onto the lower turrets and roofs before dropping down to his feet, unfortunately landing right in front of his mother.

"Brandon Stark!" she exclaimed and he instantly flushed, his direwolf whining behind his mother.

"The King is here!" he burst out then, hoping what he had seen would distract her from scolding him.

"Then get to the keep and call them out," she told him and he scampered off as fast as he could, his wolf scurrying behind him; "And no more climbing!" she shouted after him.

He grinned to himself as he made his way up the steps, calling out into the entrance hall that the King had almost arrived. His news spread fast and it wasn't long before everyone was in action, Bran escaped the madness and went back out into the courtyard to wait for the rest of his family to assemble. Sansa was already there, her hand toying with her hair as she looked towards the main gate where the Royal procession would soon be entering. His mother walked towards them then with Jon, she was speaking urgently to him and he had a scowl on his face. Bran thought his mother looked almost upset when Jon moved away from her and went to stand with Theon further back in the crowd. She quickly disguised her emotions then and smiled at him as his father, Robb and Rickon made their way down the steps of the keep.

"Where is Arya?" his mother hissed exasperatedly then as she looked down the line of them.

Sansa merely shrugged and his mother looked instantly furious. His father next to her didn't seem too bothered though as he kept his own eyes fixed on the gates. Rickon next to him was shuffling impatiently in contrast to Sansa on the other side of him who stood up tall and still. Bran couldn't wait until he grew up taller, he would love to be as tall as Robb was at his father's side, then perhaps he would be able to swing a sword as well as him.

He was distracted then by Arya running towards them with a helm atop her neatly braided hair, screaming out over and over that she had seen the King. Their father grabbed her at once and told her to calm herself, pulling the helm from her head and passing it back to Jory before shoving her gently down the line so she could claim her place. She shoved Bran rather harder than he thought was strictly necessary, telling him to move over and standing herself between him and Sansa. Their elder sister spared her a brief look of disdain before turning to the front again where hooves could be heard approaching.

Ned swallowed hard as the King's men and banners came into sight and he felt Catelyn take his hand a squeeze it gently after a moment. Robb on the other side of him seemed to stand up a little straighter and Ned allowed his lips to turn up; the boys had all been disgruntled about having to shave and it seemed Robb was trying to compensate for his lack of a beard by being as tall as he possibly could. A boy he could only describe as Lannister rode into view then, his fine clothing and regal stature told Ned that he could only be Prince Joffrey.

Sansa too noticed him and he seemed to have noticed her, twitching his lips up at her as his eyes fell on her. She could feel the blush rise in her cheeks as she let her own lips curve up into a responding smile. Robb bristled at her side as he noticed the interaction between his little sister and the preening boy he could only guess was the heir to the throne. He, Jon and Theon had already decided that they would teach the boy a lesson in the tiltyard, having heard stories that he was an utter prick. Humiliation was what a haughty looking child like him needed, and Robb was even more eager to dish it out to him now that he had seen the way he looked at Sansa. Before he could nudge her and pull her attention from the golden haired prince a larger figure came into view and all those assembled moved at once to follow his father's lead.

As one Winterfell seemed to kneel as King Robert came into view, hauling himself down from his horse and stamping his way towards those who were knelt before him. When he stopped in front of Ned he stared down at him for a moment before he gestured with his hand for him to rise. As Ned rose the other's followed suit and those assembled all seemed to hold their breath as the King and their Lord contemplated one another.

"You've got fat," the King spat at Ned then and Catelyn raised her eyebrows despite herself.

Ned simply looked Robert up and down before raising his own brows and quirking his lips. His old friend let out a tirade of raucous laughter then which Ned joined in with before they embraced one another like brothers.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" Robert demanded as they pulled apart.

"Keeping the North in order for you your Grace," Ned responded and the King smiled wryly before turning his attention to Catelyn.

"Cat!" he drawled out and she smiled at him, dropping into a short curtsey.

"Your Grace," she said warmly as she straightened up.

"It's good to see you, good to see you," Robert murmured at he crushed her into an embrace briefly before moving on down the line. "You must be Robb," he said and Robb nodded his head and brought a smile to his own lips as the beaming King grasped his hand tightly, "and what's your name?" he asked then, moving his attention to Sansa at his side.

"Sansa, your Grace," she answered him politely.

"You're a pretty one," he twinkled at her and she glowed at his praise as he moved on to Arya.

"And you are?" he inquired.

"Arya," she said, "your Grace," she added as Sansa nudged her and Robert chuckled.

"And you boy? You must be a knight!" he boomed as he took in Bran's appearance and he grinned.

"Bran your Grace, and I would love to be," Bran said eagerly.

"Well perhaps one day you shall be," the King smiled down on him, "and last … who are you?"

"Rickon your Grace," the smallest Stark child said, straining his neck up so he could look at the King.

"A fine lot," Robert finished, nodding his head, "a fine lot indeed … you should be proud Ned"

"I am," Ned confirmed, meeting the King's eyes.

The King merely nodded then as the carriage rolled into the courtyard, the doors opening to reveal a beautiful woman that everyone instantly recognised as the Queen; Cersei Lannister. She cast a judgemental eye around Winterfell before forcing a slight smile to her lips and approaching Ned, holding her hand out carelessly to him. He took it in his own and placed his lips carefully to the back of it.

"My Queen," he murmured and she somehow managed to let her smile widen more before turning her attention to his wife. Catelyn Stark was beautiful she supposed, despite the plain clothes she wore. It was a shame for her that her radiance had been hidden up here in the cold north, she would have done well further south. Still, this was her fate, just as Robert had been Cersei's. The woman smiled at her then and the Queen returned it, finding it came easier when she looked at her. Perhaps she could befriend the woman and get her to persuade her husband not to take the role of Hand. Still, Cersei thought as Catelyn pressed her own kiss to the back of her hand, if Catelyn Stark hated her husband even half as much as she hated Robert then likely she would be glad to see him gone.

"Take me to your crypts Ned, I would pay my respects," Robert snapped then.

"We have been riding a month my love," Cersei said smoothly, "surely the dead can wait?"

"Ned!" Robert called out sharply, ignoring his wife.

Ned looked at her apologetically then and she forced another smile for him. The last thing she needed from these people was pity. She glanced up at Jaime then and saw him surveying his surroundings with a look of disdain. He hated this place as much as she did and that at least comforted her a little. She swept her eyes across the Stark family then and along the rows and rows of people stood behind them, searching for any hint of blonde that would reveal the Targaryen girl to her. She was curious about Daenerys, she wondered if she had escaped her cursed blood and grown up free of madness. She wondered if the North had broken her as surely as it had no doubt broken Catelyn Stark.

As the Queen's eyes scanned the crowd Dany shifted uncomfortably between Theon and Jon. They both noticed her movement and as one moved to step slightly in front of her to obscure her from view. She was so small that between them and Robb standing in front of her she was completely shielded from the Queen's searching stare. There had been one point when the King had greeted Robb and Sansa that Dany had frozen in fear, sure that if his eyes moved just a fraction then they would land on her. It seemed her had only had eyes for the Stark family though and she was glad of it. He may notice her at the feast tonight but for now at least she could rest easy as he was safely down in the crypts with Lord Stark.

* * *

Ned and Robert walked side by side in silence down passed the rows and rows of tombs that lined the crypts of Winterfell. For hundreds of years Stark men had been buried down here, there was only one woman in the crypts and it was she that Ned and the King were seeking out. They came to a halt as one as they reached her imaged, Ned's eyes sliding to Robert as the King's own stared at the carved stone figure of the woman that he had so desperately loved.

"Did you have to put her down here … in this dark, depressing pit?" Robert snarled.

"This is where she belongs, this is her home," Ned told him calmly.

"She belonged with me," he said possessively and Ned said nothing.

This was what he had been afraid of, Robert getting all caught up in the past and causing guilt to rise up in Ned. How could he ever explain to Robert that Lyanna hadn't wanted him? That she had willingly broken their betrothal to run away with Rhaegar Targaryen? That she had carried his child and died bringing him into the world?

He couldn't. He couldn't then and he most certainly couldn't now.

"In my dreams I kill that bastard every night," Robert growled then.

"It's done … he's dead and gone, the Targaryen's are finished," Ned said quietly.

"Not quite," Robert said just as quietly, "how is your ward? The girl?"

"She's well," Ned said carefully.

"She as mad as her father?" he asked.

"She's not mad at all, she is a gracious and polite girl," Ned said and Robert grunted in response.

"Good," he finally huffed, "I need you Ned"

"Your Grace …" Ned began.

"I need you to come and be my Hand … we won the Iron Throne together, we should rule the Kingdom's together, like it was meant to be," Robert said, meeting his eyes.

"I am honoured," Ned managed to stutter out before he dropped to his knees.

"Get up Ned," he grunted, "it's no honour"

"Surely … someone else …" Ned tried.

"I can't trust anyone else, I'm surrounded by fucking Lannister's … I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need you Ned, I know what I'm asking you to leave," he said, his tone softer now.

Ned said nothing as he rose back to his feet and he met Robert's steely blue gaze as his old friend stared back at him. It was the last thing he wanted, to leave Winterfell, the North, his family … Cat. He couldn't imagine not curling up in bed with her every night, holding her in his arms as they both drifted off to sleep. He couldn't imagine not watching Robb and Jon sparring in the tiltyard, neither of them able to best the other. He couldn't imagine not helping Bran correct his archery stance as he determined to hit dead centre on the board. If he left here he would miss the day he finally managed it, he would miss seeing the look of sheer glee in his eyes the same way it had shone from Robb and Jon when they had done it. He would miss seeing Sansa and Arya arguing over something ridiculous, his elder daughter no doubt outraged at the mud that coated her little sister's dress. He would miss showing Rickon how to hold a sword and master horse riding. He would miss everything. How could Robert ask him this?

"You don't have to give me your answer now," the man himself said then, "just promise me you will think about it"

Ned managed to nod then and Robert clapped his shoulder before he turned to lead the way back through the crypts and back up to the fading sunlight.

* * *

Theon pulled a serving girl down into his lap as the feasting went on, no doubt he would be rewarded with a hard stare from Lady Stark if she caught him but thankfully she seemed otherwise engaged as she chattered to the Queen. The girl on his lap giggled then as he slid his hand under her skirts, and brushed her neck lightly with his lips. Before his hand could travel any further up her thigh an older woman, no doubt her senior in rank barked at her that she had work to be doing. The girl made to slide from his knee at once but Theon held her back for a moment and murmured in her ear; "find me later," he breathed and she giggled again, flushing slightly before nodding her head and he finally let her slide from his lap.

He turned to top up his flagon of ale then and watched her progress across the hall as she dodged the wandering hands of other drunken men. Theon smirked slightly, he would have fun with her later. He turned his attention to Robb then who he noticed was staring longingly at the other side of the hall. Theon didn't need to ask to know what his friend was staring at and he sighed heavily. Robb needed to stop pining for her, they were not destined for one another and if he carried on letting his feelings grow then both of them would only end up getting hurt.

"You need to stop," he said quietly and Robb turned his eyes to him.

"Stop what?" Robb asked but Theon saw the flash of guilt cross his features.

"You're the heir of the North, of Winterfell," Theon told him.

"I am aware of that," Robb said calmly, taking a long drink from his own flagon.

"Then act like it," he said sharply.

"What do you mean?" Robb snapped back.

"Stop mooning over her, you know you can never have her, not as your wife at any rate and you're far too honourable to take her as a lover," Theon told him.

"Shut up," Robb snarled.

"I'm only telling you because I'm your friend … she's a ward no more," he said.

"I know," Robb said bitterly.

"Good," Theon nodded, "now drink up and cast your eyes over those southern beauties"

Robb tried to smile then and brought his flagon obligingly back to his lips. He tried to let his eyes wander over the women that Theon had nodded out to him but they kept sliding back of their own accord to Dany. He knew he was being foolish, being infatuated with her would do him no good because Theon was right, she would never be considered as a match for him. Her name was a disgraced one and no matter how highly his father thought of her there would be no way that he would consent to her one day being the Lady of Winterfell. The King would disapprove for a start, so would the North no doubt. Robb sometimes wished he was the second son. Maybe then he would at least have a chance at persuading his parents to approve Dany as a match.

He sighed heavily then and Theon patted him on the back in a brotherly fashion. Sometimes he wished he could be more like his friend, Theon had had countless women; he was handsome and carefree and had never had to worry about strong feelings creeping up on him. Theon bed women as easily as he shot dead centre on the archery board. And given that he never missed that was saying something. Robb imagined the King could give him a run for his money though as he watched him grab at a serving girl and pull her into his arms, planting a kiss on her lips before she could protest. Not that she would protest, he was the King and King's did whatever they pleased. Robb couldn't believe he was so open with it though, cavorting with another woman under the watchful eye of his Queen. He glanced up towards the high table then and saw his mother looking awkward at the exchange, hurriedly trying to catch the woman sat beside her up into conversation.

She needn't have bothered, Robb thought, it looked to him like the Queen had already seen the behaviour of her husband and her smooth expression didn't falter. He could only imagine that she had seen it all before on countless occasions.

* * *

Jon grinned as he caught sight of his uncle Benjen sliding in through the doors of the hall. He had been miserable most of the night, Lady Stark had seated him at the table furthest away from the high table and the honoured guests. He knew why she'd done it, she had explained it to him before the King had arrived and had apologised over and over. She hadn't wanted to snub him he knew that but it still hurt that he couldn't go across and at least chat with his siblings. He was sat with people he barely knew and they paid little or no attention to him.

When Benjen walked in though he stood up from the table at once and approached him, his uncle grinning back at him.

"Uncle Benjen!" he greeted happily and the man pulled him into a fierce embrace.

"What are you doing all the way back here?" his uncle chuckled as he pulled away.

"Lady Stark didn't want to insult the Queen," he explained and Benjen nodded.

"How are you lad?" Benjen asked him then, clapping his shoulder.

"Good," he nodded, "and how's the Wall?"

"Still standing," Benjen chuckled, "have you seen your father?"

"Over there with Ser Rodrik," Jon nodded towards his direction.

"I'll catch up to you later," Benjen said then, clapping Jon on the shoulder again before moving passed him.

He made his way through the throng of people, managing to pick up a flagon of ale from a serving girl along the way, taking a deep draught from it as he approached his elder brother. When he reached him he clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and Ned turned at once, his usual grim expression breaking into an almost child-like grin when he set his eyes on his little brother.

"You're late," he commented as they embraced firmly for a moment.

"You know me, the Maester always used to scold me for tardiness," Benjen grinned and Ned chuckled.

"Right enough," he agreed, taking a drink from his own ale.

"This must be costing a pretty penny … what's the occasion?" Benjen asked him.

"Robert wants me to be his new Hand," Ned told him, the grim expression back on his face.

"There's an honour brother," he said with raised brows.

"An honour I could do without," Ned muttered.

"You made your decision?" Benjen inquired and he shook his head.

"Not yet," he said, "how's the Wall? Still standing?"

"Aye," Benjen grinned, "heard you caught a deserter"

"Aye," Ned nodded grimly, "full of tales of the walkers, complete madness"

"If you say so," Benjen said just as grimly.

"You're not telling me you'd believe it?" Ned asked him, his eyes widening.

"Winter is coming," he told him, "and things beyond the Wall are stirring"

"The walkers though Benjen?" Ned scoffed, "come now"

"I only know that fewer and fewer rangers are coming back," Benjen told him.

"Wildlings surely," Ned said dismissively.

"Aye perhaps," Benjen agreed, "but they're losing numbers too"

"Good," Ned said and Benjen couldn't help but grin again.

He raised his flagon back to his lips and thought he ought to ask Ned again about going to King's Landing. The thought of his brother leaving the North made him feel uneasy. Up here he had nothing to worry about but the cold and the odd deserter from the Night's Watch or the odd group of Wildlings that managed to scale the Wall. Down in the Capitol he would be surrounded by dangers and he knew that most of them would likely be concealed. Benjen didn't like it one bit. He had never been south and he never would. Not after what had happened to the rest of his family. He shuddered slightly then and prayed to the Gods that he would not lose Ned to that snake pit. Before he could say anything to caution his brother though he felt a hand slap his back and turned to see Robb. He embraced the lad fiercely before pulling away to study him.

"Gods lad you've grown," he chuckled, "how many name days have you had now?"

"Eighteen," Robb told him with a grin and he shook his head in disbelief.

"A man grown then," Benjen said with a smile.

"Still green though," Ned said affectionately and Robb smiled.

"Best it stay that way," Benjen said, "war's done enough damage to this family"

"Aye," Ned agreed, "right enough"

"To the Stark's," he said then, raising his flagon.

"The Stark's," Ned and Robb echoed, bashing their own against his.

The three of them drank deeply then before a cry from Sansa had them turned towards where she had been seated. Robb couldn't help but laugh at the horrified expression on Sansa's face as he saw it spattered with pudding. He knew without looking down the table that Arya had flung it at her. All around people were laughing as Jeyne Poole attempted to help Sansa clean up her face. Robb's laughter cut off though as he glanced towards the top table and caught his mother's eye. She gave him a stern, pointed look and he moved away from his father and uncle at once, catching Arya up under her arms and carrying her from the hall.

Benjen and Ned exchanged a grin as they watched Arya protesting against Robb as he practically had to drag her out of the hall.

"She reminds me of Lia," Benjen said softly.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "she does that"

He glanced uneasily towards Robert then and noted with some relief that he was otherwise engaged with a serving girl. His eyes slid to Jon then who was getting up from the table and heading towards the doors. Ned hoped he was going to bed, Dany had already slipped from the hall and he had been glad to see her go. He had been on edge all night wondering if Robert would notice one or both of them. Thankfully he seemed more interested in feasting, drinking and whoring to take any notice of anyone else. He glanced at Benjen then who was watching the King with a rather disgusted look on his face and tried not to let his mind wander to Lyanna.

He had thought about her too much today already.

_Promise me Ned._

* * *

**A/N: **I'll try and get another one up before the weekend.

Hope you enjoyed - any thoughts would be great.

:)


	4. Wings of Warning

**A/N: **It's new chapter time! There's a notable change from canon in this one and I hope you all like it ;)

Just a few guest thank you's to do first!

**queeninthenorth: **Thank you so much, I'm glad you like it - there will be more changes throughout and I hope you continue to enjoy and that you like the way the characters are written!

**elaine451: **Certain things will be canon, other things will change (see this chapter for an example!) I'm glad you've been sucked in and I hope you enjoy this update!

Now, on with the chapter. Please drop me a review and let me know what you think!

:)

* * *

**Wings of Warning**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Tyrion groaned in pain as he moved his body a mere fraction to the side. He could barely remember the day before, only that it had involved a colossal amount of wine and more than a few firm pairs of tits. He looked up and saw Jaime smirking at him then and it quite possibly made him feel even worse than he already did. Why in the name of the Gods had he agreed to go with them on this stupid hunting trip? They were saddling up the horses now and likely they would be leaving soon. Tyrion wasn't sure if he could even stand up right now let alone seat a horse. Jaime approached him then, his smirk widening as he took in his little brother's pale face and bloodshot eyes.

"I do hope you have fun today," Jaime drawled and Tyrion narrowed his eyes at him.

"Are you not joining us dear brother?" he asked him.

"Gods no," Jaime almost shuddered, "I am gladly taking to opportunity to have a day away from that great oaf we call 'King'"

"And how will you spend your day instead?" Tyrion pondered in mock wonderment.

"In peace," Jaime told him.

_In bed with our sweet sister more like, _Tyrion thought to himself, forcing a smile to his face for his brother before he could say such a thing out loud.

The men called out that they were leaving then and Tyrion groaned, somehow managing to hop down from his perch atop a hay bale and amble slowly towards them. Jaime watched him go with a satisfied smile. Almost the whole of Winterfell were going on the hunt, he was one of the few men that were staying behind. Even Ned Stark's bastard was allowed to go with them. Jaime thought it pathetic that Catelyn Stark even let the boy live in Winterfell let alone within the keep itself. Gods she must be a down-trodden woman, not like his sweet sister. He had no doubt at all that Cersei would murder Robert, King or not, if he even dared move one of his countless bastards into the Red Keep. The thought made him smile even more widely and he sauntered back towards the keep where he knew his sweet sister was waiting.

There was no one around as he climbed up the steps and along the hallways to the chambers that she was inhabiting. She had been moaning about them to him since they arrived. They were not big enough. They were not grand enough. They were not royal enough. Jaime didn't care, so long as they had a bed he could fuck her on they were good enough for him. He knocked smartly on the door when he came before it and she answered after a moment.

"What do you want?" she hissed at him through the small gap.

"You," he smirked, his voice low and full of lust.

"Jaime," she snapped, "the children are here"

"Send them away to amuse themselves then," he rolled his eyes.

"We cannot risk it … not here," she told him, shaking her head furiously.

"Everyone has gone on the hunt," he argued in an irritated whisper.

"Not here," she said firmly.

"Somewhere more deserted then?" he suggested, stepping closer to the gap and stroking a finger down her cheek.

"Jaime …" she said softly and he knew she was giving in.

"I know just the place …" he tempted her and he saw it in her eyes that he had her.

* * *

Dany swept her eyes around the courtyard as she made her way down the steps, never before had she seen Winterfell so deserted. It was strange without the men around. Some women had gone on the hunt to so they could prepare a spread of food to feed the men when they grew tired of hunting. She looked across to see Rickon's poor direwolf chained up by the kennels then looking mournful. He had given up howling – it didn't get him anywhere. If only Rickon were old enough to be able to train him properly then he wouldn't have to spend the majority of his days on a short chain. A thought struck her then and she looked around again and saw Bran's wolf sniffing around one of the walls. She knew at once then that the boy must be climbing and set off at a brisk pace around the back of the keep and towards the old tower.

She saw Bran as she rounded the corner, expertly manoeuvring himself across the highest heights of Winterfell. Gods she wished he wouldn't, even the sight of him so high up made her feel sick. Lady Stark had cautioned him time and time again but he still insisted on doing it. If she caught him while the Royal family were visiting though he would be in for Seven Hells worth of trouble. With that in mind she walked across the grass until she was directly beneath him and waited until he was secure on a ledge before shouting up so she didn't startle him into falling.

"Bran!"

Several feet above her she saw him look down from his ledge with a massive grin on his face. She tried not to let her own lips twitch up at the sheer look of joy on his face. Bran loved climbing, imagining that he was on some noble adventure as a knight. That was what he was determined to be when he was a man grown but Lord Stark had to constantly remind him that he needed to spend more time in the tiltyard and less climbing walls if he was to be made a Ser.

"Come down before your mother sees you!"

"Just a while longer!" he protested and Dany shook her head.

"Come down now! I have an idea how we can spend the afternoon!" she shouted up.

"How?!" he asked and she heard the curiosity in his tone.

"I thought we could teach Shaggy Dog and your wolf some tricks!" she told him.

"What kind of tricks?!" he questioned.

"Tricks that mean they don't need to be chained up!" she called.

"My wolf isn't chained up!" he countered.

"Do you think he likes seeing his brother chained up where he can't play with him?!" she persuaded.

Bran went quiet then and she knew he was thinking hard about what she had said. He didn't move from his ledge though and after a while she grew impatient, squinting up at him and seeing that he hadn't budged.

"Please Bran!" she coaxed, "You know seeing you so high up makes me nauseous!"

"Alright!" she heard him huff and she grinned widely, seeing him already beginning to descend down from the wall.

* * *

_The Wolfswood_

* * *

Theon hit the deer square in the flank with his arrow and it dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. The King cheered loudly and pressed a golden dragon into his hand and Theon was delighted. Robb shook his head at the look on his friends face, he knew exactly how that money would be spent and it would mean Theon spending a lot more time at the brothel. He was infatuated with Ros at the moment, or more specifically, infatuated with what she did to him between the sheets.

"Not bad hey?" Theon smirked at him then and Robb smiled back.

"I don't suppose that will last you long," he quipped.

"Should buy me a weeks-worth of time with Ros," Theon winked, "she'll not be able to walk when I'm done with her"

"Must you always be such a letch?" Jon piped up then.

"It's not lecherous if they want it," he winked again.

Robb laughed at that but Jon merely rolled his eyes and looked away in disgust. People seemed to be moving back towards the clearing for lunch now as several of the King's mean went forward to truss up the deer that Theon had felled. Jon might have known Theon would do the best on this outing, he and Robb preferred the sword but Theon was a dead shot with a bow. The deer hadn't stood a chance. And now, with his reward, neither did the poor women at the brothel.

Jon couldn't honestly say he had ever got on well with Theon. He was three years older than him and Robb but he refused to act it, he was almost childlike in his behaviour and Jon couldn't stand his attitude towards women. Theon was the sort of man to put a bastard in a woman and leave her to deal with the consequences. He thought nothing of taking a girls innocence or spending night after night in the brothel. In his eyes women were there for the pleasure of men and served no other purpose. The only girls he showed any kind of regard to were Sansa, Arya and Dany. They were the only ones who didn't find themselves at the mercy of his wandering eyes and hands and for that at least Jon was grateful.

* * *

Ned thanked the procession of serving girls who came to lay the food out on the makeshift table that had been set up for him and Robert to dine at. Robert had already pulled an immense amount onto his own plate and was heartily tucking into a chicken leg, tearing at the tender white flesh as Ned took a long drink of wine and tried not to think about the inevitable question that would come his way. The King slapped the final girl heartily on the bottom as she turned and walked away from them and Ned sent her what he hoped had been an apologetic smile. The last thing he needed was for the women of Winterfell to think he had become a letch in the presence of the King.

"A fine day Ned … a fine day," Robert said contentedly and Ned managed another smile.

"Perfect for the hunt," Ned agreed.

"That Greyjoy ward of yours is quite the shot, he doesn't give you any trouble does he?" he asked.

"No," Ned shook his head, "he's a good lad … gives the women plenty of trouble mind"

"Seems like someone round here needs to," the King chuckled, "most seem far too like you"

"Is that such a bad thing?" Ned asked with another small smile.

"You're honourable Ned, can't fault that, which is why I need you," Robert said. _Here we go_.

"You know I said I'd think on it," he replied.

"I don't know who I can trust in that damn snake pit," Robert almost snarled.

"I'd know even less than you," Ned said.

"I know you're loathe to leave your cold North and your warm wife …" he started.

"But still you ask me to," Ned interrupted.

"I never expected to … never wanted to, but I can ask no one else," Robert insisted.

"You have two brothers," Ned reminded him.

"Renly would bankrupt me in a week … and Stannis … well I'd be allowed to have no fucking fun at all if he were Hand," he snorted and Ned couldn't help but smile.

"Perhaps you have too much fun," Ned suggested as the King eyed up another young woman.

"Perhaps you don't have enough," Robert countered.

"Cat is enough for me," he said firmly.

"What about your bastard's mother?" Robert asked and he instantly stiffened.

"One mistake I have paid for forever," Ned said.

"Oh … come now Ned … it was war, Cat is a reasonable woman," he said.

"Aye she is," Ned agreed, "and thank the Gods she forgave me"

"I know you don't want to leave her," Robert said quietly then.

"No I don't," Ned agreed.

"But I swear to you Ned … I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate," he implored him.

Ned said nothing, he merely sighed heavily before turning his attention back to his meal. He wasn't really hungry, he just picked at the food and sipped at the wine to give him something to do. Robert watched him for a time but his eyes soon wandered, his mouth calling for more wine as he ate and drank heartily. Ned barely recognised him as the man who had successfully overthrown the Targaryen dynasty. Gods if he had to fight for his throne again now he had no doubt that he would lose. Maybe he really did need him.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"It was beyond foolish Jaime! That boy could have caught us!" Cersei accused.

"But he didn't did he?" Jaime countered at once and she glared at him.

"No more," she said with finality and he sighed in exasperation.

"Cersei …" he started but she was in no mood to hear his persuasions.

"Is this a game to you?" she questioned him incredulously, "do you think this is a game? Our lives are at stake, my children's lives are at stake!"

"Only if we're caught," he soothed her.

"Which we almost were!" she snapped, "No more Jaime … not until we're safely back"

"Cersei …" he started again.

"No more!" she said with finality and he sighed in defeat.

He turned to leave then and she made no move to stop him. Irritation coursed through him as he pounded down the hallways of the keep. Gods he couldn't stand Winterfell. Couldn't stand the North. Up here Cersei became as cold as it did. Of course she had her moments at the Capitol but a few soothing words and insistent touches always brought her around to his way of thinking. She was far too tense and serious that was his sister's problem. What she failed to realise was that he would kill anyone who discovered their secret. Including her disgusting husband.

Jaime still hated that Robert Baratheon had been the first man inside his sweet sister. Of course he himself had been the first to kiss her, to touch her, to please her. When she married that poor excuse for a King though she had told him that it could no longer go on, she wouldn't even permit him to hold her hand. That all changed when her first boy died. The day they buried him she came to Jaime in the dead of night and he had buried himself in her. He had been the first man to make her come. He took some satisfaction in that at least. Cersei was _his_, they shared everything; they were two halves of the same whole. They only worked when they were together. Sometimes she seemed to forget that but he never would.

He stood on the steps of the keep then and scanned his eyes around the courtyard, his attention caught by the glint of silvery blonde over by the kennels. How Ned Stark had managed to convince Robert to hand over the Targaryen girl into his hands was still a mystery to Jaime. The King had ridden off to Dragonstone all those years ago the dispatch the two remaining threats to his throne. Elia's children were already dead and Jaime had had no doubt that those of Aerys' that remained would soon meet the same end. They hadn't though. The boy had escaped and Robert had been persuaded to let the girl come north and become a ward of the Stark's.

Jaime hadn't seen much of her, much less spoken to her. As much as he would love to stand before her and see her reaction to him; the man who had killed her father, he didn't dare because he knew how incensed Ned Stark would be. And if he was incensed that Robert would be beyond reason and Jaime's job was difficult enough as it was. With that in mind he stayed away from the girl. There was no harm in watching her though as she interacted with the two youngest Stark children. They appeared to be trying to train those blasted direwolves. Jaime thought they were wasting their time. Direwolves were not good pets in his opinion. It would have been better to put them down before they grew big enough to turn on their 'masters'.

* * *

Dany looked up at the feeling that someone was watching her and her eyes locked for a moment with a green pair that didn't look away at once. It was only after they did though and the man moved away that she realised with a jolt who she had been looking at. Jaime Lannister. Kingslayer they called him because he had been the one who killed her father. She wondered if he revelled in the nickname or if he found it tiresome after all these years? She knew that her father had been a tyrant who needed to be overthrown but Jaime Lannister had sworn to protect him. How must that have felt? To be stabbed in the back by someone you trusted with your life. Dany shuddered then at the thought. There were not many who she trusted, no one besides the Stark's really. Loral too of course. She was always wary though, if history had taught her anything it was that she didn't have many friends at all in this world.

She pulled her mind away from troubling thoughts then as the sound of hundreds of hooves approaching grew louder and louder before a stream of riders flowed in through the top end of the courtyard. Bran and Rickon sprang up at her side, an excited look in their eyes as they looked towards the returning hunting party – no doubt wondering what they would be feasting on tonight. Dany didn't move until the King was safely dismounted and on his way into the keep with Lord Stark. She approached where Robb stood with Jon and Theon then and brought a smile to her face that she had no doubt Robb would see through. He said nothing though, he wouldn't, not in the company of others. Now he would let her carry on with her façade, later though if he got her alone he would needle the truth out of her.

"So what is for the feast tonight?" she asked brightly.

"Deer," Theon told her with a grin.

"Some pigeons," Jon added.

"A pheasant or two," Robb said.

"Plenty then," she smiled.

"Maybe not with the King around," Theon said quietly and Robb snorted.

"You shouldn't say such things!" Jon scolded but she saw his lips quirk up slightly.

"Lighten up Snow," Theon told him, shoving his shoulder.

"Aye," Robb agreed, "come on, best we get ourselves presentable for this feast"

"Yes," Dany smiled slyly, "you don't want your mother after you again"

It was his turn to shove her shoulder then, although he did it far more lightly than Theon had done to Jon, a twinkle in his eyes as he had smiled down on her. She wished her heart would stop. It seemed to be accelerating rapidly as she met his gaze. Thankfully he looked away after a moment and handed the reins of his horse to a passing stable boy. The two exchanged some friendly words and while Robb was distracted Theon seized the opportunity to offer Dany his arm. She took it happily and they began their journey into the keep, neither noticing Robb's disgruntled scowl when he turned back to see their retreating backs.

"What did you get up to today?" Theon asked her as they made their way towards the steps.

"I helped Bran and Rickon with their wolves," she told him.

"Did you get anywhere?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Further than I thought," she smiled, "they seem incredibly intelligent"

"Compared with the company you usually keep I don't doubt it," he teased.

"Are you including yourself in that Greyjoy?" she returned at once and he laughed.

"You got me there," he said.

"You walked right into it," she smiled and he nodded his agreement.

"I shall see you at the feast then," he said as they came to a stop in the entrance hall.

"Do come and join me in my shadowy corner," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"I'd be delighted my Lady," he said sarcastically before grinning at her and setting off towards his rooms.

* * *

Catelyn had just snuggled comfortably down into Ned's warm embrace when a knock sounded at the door. She sighed irritably and made to shift away from him but he held her fast and called for their visitor to come in. The door opened then and Catelyn lifted her head up to see who had come in, Ned turning his own head beneath her. It was Maester Luwin and he looked troubled.

"My apologies my Lord, my Lady," he bowed shortly then.

"What's happened?" Ned asked him.

"I've received a raven, from your sister my Lady," he said and Catelyn shifted up at once, pulling herself out of bed and approaching him.

"This is from the Eyrie," she said in confusion as she examined the seal, "why in the name of the Gods would Lysa be there?"

"What does she say?" Ned asked her, pulling himself out of bed as he saw his wife's face start to pale as she read through the letter.

Catelyn didn't answer at once, her eyes carefully reading each line again, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She bit down on her lip then and felt Ned come to stand behind her, his arms coming to rest on the top of her arms and she finally managed to lift her eyes from the parchment to see the Maester staring at her in concern. Seeing his gaze fixed on her snapped her mind out of its confusion and she marched at once to the fire and tossed the letter onto it, watching as the edges blackened and curled until there was nothing left but ashes.

"Cat?" Ned said then, concern and slight frustration evident in his tone.

"She says Jon Arryn was murdered," she told him, her eyes darting between him and the Maester.

"She's grief-stricken," Ned said at once, "she doesn't know what she's saying …"

"Ned!" he said sharply, "She has fled the Capitol! She has risked her life and the life of her boy by sending this letter – she wouldn't have risked it if she wasn't certain!"

Ned paled then as he met the insistent stare of his wife. She believed what Lysa had written to her in that letter and he couldn't help but be convinced at the conviction she was conveying with that piercing blue stare. This was worrying. Who in the name of the Gods would want to kill Jon Arryn? And more importantly, why?

"Who?" he managed then and Catelyn glanced uneasily between him and the Maester again.

"The Lannister's," she told him quietly and Maester Luwin's eyes widened.

"The Queen's family … Cat …" Ned said, beginning to shake his head.

"She's certain Ned!" she insisted.

"If this is true then the King could be in danger," Maester Luwin said then and Ned met his eyes, hearing the underlying meaning.

"No," Catelyn said at once, seeing the look, "no … that does not mean you go Ned! If they killed the last Hand …"

"My Lady … Lord Stark may be the only man who can save the King," the Maester implored.

"And put himself at risk! Ned, Brandon went to the Capitol … your father went … please …" she almost begged him and he clenched his fists slightly.

"You may be the only one who can uncover this plot my Lord," the Maester said quietly.

"Ned …" Catelyn started again.

"Would you leave us Maester Luwin?" Ned finally spoke then.

"Of course," he bowed shortly to both of them before leaving the room.

Ned turned slowly to face his wife then and she was already shaking her head at him, her eyes filling with tears. He didn't want to hear her protests nor her pleading for him to stay, he didn't think he would be able to cope with it. Instead he crossed to her before she could say a word, crushing her in an embrace and bending his head to kiss her before she could open her mouth. He could feel her resistance but he persisted and eventually she relaxed in his arms and kissed him back willingly, her own arms coming tight around him as if she could keep him in place with her embrace. When he pulled back she could see his decision in his eyes and she shook her head slightly.

"Can I say nothing?" she questioned him softly.

"I'm going Cat … the children will come too," he told her and her eyes widened.

"Ned …" she started.

"All but Robb … he will be Lord in my absence. Jon and Dany will stay of course," he went on.

"Rickon?!" she gasped in horror.

"I suppose he is a little young …" Ned conceded.

"He needs to be with me," she insisted.

"Alright," he agreed, "but Bran and the girls are coming with me."

* * *

**A/N: **So Bran wasn't pushed ... and him going to King's Landing might just change a few other things ;)

Hope you enjoyed!

More as soon as I can.

:)


	5. Comings and Goings

**A/N:** A new chapter for you lovely people! A few guests to thank first of all though.

**expert93: **Glad you thought the twist was interesting and since you were eager for the next chapter here it is - hope you enjoy!

**queeninthenorth:** Well, maybe 'subtle' was the wrong word, but if I said there was a massive change coming people may have guessed ;) Glad you think it's unpredictable (that's the aim of the game!) and to answer your question, I have a lot more up my sleeve so I hope you stay excited and enjoy it all! :)

Right, onwards with the chapter. Let me know what you all think of it!

:)

* * *

**Comings and Goings**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Sansa felt deliriously happy as she bustled around her rooms, gathering up all her best dresses and hair clasps and jewels. She didn't have many jewels but she hoped that they would be enough for her to look like a proper Lady when she arrived at the Capitol. Honestly she could not wait to go south and see how grand life was at the Royal court. There were whispers around Winterfell that her father and the King had been talking about her and Prince Joffrey being betrothed. She hoped the rumours were true; the Prince was so handsome and had been so attentive to her, asking her to dance and barely taking his eyes from her at the feasts. Being Joffrey's wife would make her Queen someday and then someday she could be as beautiful and regal looking as Queen Cersei.

Her heart felt like it would burst. She could not _wait _to get to the Capitol. It would be wonderful she knew it would be. Even her friend Jeyne would be able to go with her and enjoy it all with her as her father was part of her own father's company. Everything would be just perfect. There would be feasting and dancing and tourneys and all manner of wonderful things. She pulled her best dress flush against her body then and scrutinized herself in the mirror. Gods she hoped she was pretty enough for Joffrey to want her as his wife, as his future Queen. Oh Gods, what if he thought her ugly?

She was pulled from that distressing thought then when a knock sounded on her door and she lay the dress carefully down on the bed before crossing to open it. It was her mother on the other side and she smiled widely for her, Catelyn's own smile looked slightly forced in return but Sansa didn't notice in her own extreme happiness.

"Are you almost packed?" Catelyn asked her, forcing her voice to stay bright.

"Almost," she said breathlessly, "I cannot wait mother truly! Do you think my gowns will be fine enough?"

"Of course they are!" Catelyn assured her at once.

"Is it true? What they are saying about me and Prince Joffrey?" Sansa asked her then.

"Your father is considering it," her mother told her carefully.

"He will say yes though won't he mother?" she questioned her eagerly.

"I don't know … you will have to wait and see," Catelyn forced another smile.

"I'm sure he will, why would he not?" she practically sang, turning back towards her packing.

Catelyn crossed to help her silently, glancing at her daughter uneasily as she carefully folded up dress after dress. Sansa was beyond excited and Catelyn wished she could be pleased. She honestly hoped her daughter would be happy in the south, that she would thrive. Arya was less than impressed with having to go and honestly Catelyn was almost glad of it. Her youngest daughter would be suspicious of the Capitol and she could only see that as a good thing after the word she had received from Lysa. She silently prayed that Sansa wouldn't be sucked into the snake's nest that she feared King's Landing truly was behind the façade of grandness.

Before Catelyn could think up the right words to try and put Sansa on her guard hooves could be heard clattering into the courtyard and her daughter was darting to the window at once to look down into the yard.

"Who is it?" she asked curiously.

"It will be Ser Ralf, from Karhold … he is an old friend of your father's, he is to be steward here in the absence of Vayon Poole," Catelyn told her.

"Is the woman with him his wife?" Sansa questioned then.

"No, that will be his daughter," Catelyn said, "his wife passed many years ago."

* * *

Theon was at the stables making sure Lord Stark and his children's horses were properly saddled up when he was distracted by the arrival of people in the courtyard. He finished tightly strapping up Bran's horse and wandered out into the courtyard, his eyes immediately caught by the girl who was being greeted by Lord Stark. She was the most utterly delicious thing he had ever set eyes on. Petite and curved in all the right places with thick, glossy, golden brown curls tumbling down her back. Her smiling lips were full and just begging to be kissed. She was like no creature he had ever seen before. He could scarce believe she was from the North. She even outstripped the stunning beauties that had come with the Royal court.

Without a second thought Theon was hurrying over towards where Lord Stark was chatting amiably with a man who was beaming widely at the side of the beautiful girl. Theon's stomach twisted uncomfortably and he prayed to all the Gods that he had ever heard of that the man was not her husband. If he was then he would have to try an awful lot harder to get her into his bed, because he would get her into his bed – he had to. Lord Stark turned to smile at him then as he noticed his approach and Theon returned it, turning his attention away from the delectable girl.

"Are the horses saddled?" he asked Theon.

"Aye my Lord," Theon told him, his eyes sliding back to the girl, finding hers already on him.

"This is Ser Ralf," Ned introduced, "he will be steward here in my absence"

"A pleasure Ser," Theon bowed shortly.

"This is my ward, Theon Greyjoy," Ned said then.

"Well met," Ser Ralf smiled at him and Theon returned it, wondering if one of them would mention the girl.

"And his daughter Adele," Ned said then, gesturing to her.

"My Lady," Theon said, reaching for her hand as she extended her own, placing a kiss to the back of it before meeting her eyes.

"Adele is fine," she smiled and he returned it.

"Theon," he nodded, "would you care for me to show you around Winterfell?"

"That would be most kind of you," she said.

"With your father's permission of course," Theon said quickly, looking to Ser Ralf.

"Of course, Lord Stark and I have business to attend to … best Adele is kept busy," he smiled.

"Shall we?" Theon said then, offering her his arm.

"Where first?" she asked brightly, taking it happily.

* * *

Jon knocked softly on the door and heard his sister call moodily for him to come in after a moment. He chuckled lightly to himself as he pushed the door open and saw her sat sulking on the edge of her bed. Arya did not want to go to the Capitol but their father had insisted. It would be good for her to see new places; that was what he had said. Arya wasn't convinced though and Jon thought in unlikely that she ever would be.

"I've got something for you," he said with a smile then but her expression didn't change.

"What?" she asked, completely stone faced.

"I'll tell you if you promise to smile," he said teasingly and she snorted.

"I don't want to go … I'm going to be stuck with proper Sansa swooning over smug Prince Joffrey … I don't want to go," she said firmly.

"You'll have Bran too," he reminded her but her expression still didn't soften.

"He's no better, going on about tourneys and learning to be a knight from the Kingsguard," she almost spat.

"You know you might enjoy it if you give it a chance," he suggested.

"No," she said firmly and he had to try very hard not to laugh at her.

"Fine …" he sighed, "do you want your gift or not"

"Alright," she said sulkily and he grinned, moving his hands from behind his back.

Arya stared when she saw what he had been hiding behind him, swallowing hard as she looked from his amused face to the blade in his hands. She got up off the bed then, her eyes wide as she approached him, her hand reached out to touch the sword. It was real steel. Not the stupid blunt tourney swords that they used out in the tiltyard but a _real_ sword that could cut through a man and kill him. She swallowed again then and looked up at Jon.

"For me?" she asked him, not quite believing it was real.

"For you," he confirmed with a wide smile that she couldn't help but return.

"Thank you Jon," she said wonderingly then as she considered the blade.

"Do you think you might be able to manage a smile now?" he grinned and she couldn't help but return it, thrilled that he had had such a gift made for her.

Before Jon could say anything else Arya had placed the sword down on her bed and launched herself into his arms. He held her back tightly and tried not to think of how long it would be before he set eyes on his little sister again. Winterfell would be different indeed.

"How about a name for it," Jon said then when they finally broke apart.

"A name?" she repeated with a frown, scrutinizing her new sword.

"All the best swords have names," he told her and she nodded her agreement, thinking hard.

"Needle," she finally said with a satisfied expression on her face and Jon grinned again.

* * *

When Jon left Arya he wandered back down into the entrance hall, the main doors flung open so he could see out into the courtyard. Robb was out there and so he made his way out too so he could at least speak with his brother before the Royal party left. He would be shoved at the back with Theon and Dany again when it came time for them to depart. Robb smiled at him as he saw him approach and Jon returned it before he caught sight of Theon with a girl he'd never seen before.

"Was she with the Royal party?" he asked Robb then and his brother grinned.

"Pretty isn't she? No, she's Ser Ralf's daughter Adele," Robb told him.

"I see Theon has taken it upon himself to show her around," Jon said knowingly.

"He has been rather _attentive _towards her," Robb agreed meaningfully.

"Someone should warn her about him," Jon said then and Robb nodded.

"Maybe," he said, "but it'll not be me, besides, I'm sure she's clever enough to work him out"

"I would hope so," Jon said, his eyes moving back to them again.

Pretty, Robb had called her. Jon thought that that was rather an understatement as he watched her walking arm in arm with Theon as he told her something or another that had her laughing heartily. He pulled his eyes away from them then as Lady Stark came out of the keep with his father right behind her. The girls came next, Arya looking rather less miserable than she had done before but still rather apprehensive. Rickon looked as though he had been crying and held on tightly to his mother's hand as they descended the steps. Bran was no-where to be seen but his wolf came skittering across the yard a few moments later, Bran following swiftly behind. Jon was willing to bet anything that Bran had been climbing the rooftops one last time and he imagined Lady Stark thought the same as she looked at him sternly as he approached her.

Ned came forwards then and Jon swallowed hard, wondering exactly how he was supposed to say farewell to his father in front of all these people. Robb didn't seem to have any worries as he stepped forward and was immediately crushed into his father's arms. They embraced for a long moment, Ned murmuring something to Robb that Jon couldn't make out. When they broke apart though he noticed his brother looking rather less composed than usual, his blue eyes shining slightly. Jon met his father's eyes then that were so like his and before he could open his mouth and say anything he had come towards him and pulled him into an embrace exactly as he had done with Robb.

"Look after yourself," Ned told him fiercely.

"I will," Jon said, "and you … be careful in the Capitol"

"It'll not be forever," Ned said then as he pulled away.

"Good," Jon smiled.

"I'm proud of you Jon," he said quietly then and Jon could only nod, emotion stinging his own eyes then as he managed to nod slightly.

Ned smiled then, he could see the emotion etched across Jon's face and he clapped him and then Robb heartily on one shoulder before turning and walking back to where his horse was saddled and waiting. He only had one goodbye left to say and he was dreading it. Theon and Dany offered him smiles from where they were skulking under the blacksmiths awning out of the way and he raised his hand in farewell and twitched his owns lips up for them. It cost him a lot of effort as his mind was firmly fixed on his wife who he could tell was trying not to break down in tears as she embraced each of her departing children in turn.

"You keep one another safe," she told them then.

"Yes mother," Sansa replied.

"Make sure you keep up with your lessons with the Septa," she went on.

"We will mother," it was Sansa who promised it.

"And you behave yourself," she said to Arya then and the younger girl grinned slightly.

"You know I can't promise that," Arya said and Catelyn managed a real smile.

"Well just don't get into too much trouble then," she almost laughed.

"I won't," Arya promised.

"And you," she turned to Bran, "no more climbing!"

"No mother," he said, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Brandon …" she began sternly.

"I won't mother I promise," he said then, looking into her eyes.

"Good," she smiled again, "now on your horses all of you, we're holding everyone up"

Ned watched as she ushered them all towards their mounts, stepping back slightly as they all hauled themselves up, her hands clenching in the fabric of her dress so hard her knuckles turned white. He hated doing this to her but it would be good for at least some of their children to experience life outside the North.

"I love you all," she told them then and they returned her affection, all of them now looking troubled as they sensed their mother's upset.

"Cat," Ned said then and she turned to him and almost let the tears fall.

"Promise me Ned," she whispered, "like you did before …"

"I promise Cat," he told her, coming forward and grasping the top of her arms lightly, "I promise I will come home and that I will be true to you"

"I love you," she told him then and he pulled her into his arms.

He didn't care who saw them. He was not ashamed that he loved his wife and he was not ashamed that he wanted to hold her one more time, to kiss her one more time. He did kiss her then, he kissed her like they were still those love-struck young things they had been when they first came to Winterfell because that's how she made him feel. With Cat he was always that young man because she held his heart in her hands and he held hers. The Gods only knew how it would feel to be apart from her for so long. He had missed her when he rode out to war all those years ago and that was before love had grown and before they had had so many years and so many children between them. It would be harder this time. It would be a thousand times worse. When he pulled away he looked into her beautiful eyes for the longest time – memorizing them.

"I love you," he said quietly then and she pressed her lips together to stop the tears from escaping.

"I will be right here waiting for you," she promised and he nodded, swallowing hard.

"I have to go," he finally said, releasing her from their embrace.

"I know," she said sadly and he managed one last smile for her before he turned and walked to his horse.

* * *

Dinner that night was quiet and sombre. The atmosphere in the great hall made it feel as though someone had died and no one was speaking much. Normal seating arrangements had been resumed now so Dany and Jon were back at the high table as usual. Theon had been there, seating himself purposely between Robb and Dany and not missing the look that crossed Robb's face when he did so. It was for Robb's own good though, that's why he had done it. Adele had pulled him away from his quest to keep his friend's eyes from Dany though when she had got up to dance with one of the squire's after the plates had been cleared away and more wine brought out. He didn't want anyone else staking a claim on her, he had seen her first and it would be him who had her. She didn't seem to mind the way he almost rudely interrupted her dance and took her hand in his instead, his other coming to rest on her slim waist.

It took everything Theon had to not let that hand wander lower but he knew that her father was there in the hall and he wasn't yet sure how she would react. He would have to get to know her a little better before he dared make a move. He would make a move though. How could he not? She was the most delicious little creature the North had likely ever seen. Likely most of the remaining men of Winterfell would love a taste of her but there was no way Theon would let that happen. He scowled slightly as he looked towards the high table and saw that Robb had moved down a place and was now talking intently to Dany. She was twisting a lock of her hair around her fingers and gazing into Robb's eyes and he just wanted to go up there and bash their heads together. She was just as bad as him. They both needed to get a grip on themselves before it was too late.

"Is something wrong?" Adele asked him then and he immediately changed his frown to a smile.

"Of course not," he said smoothly but she didn't look placated.

"You're not tired of dancing with me are you?" she questioned, her head cocked to one side.

"I don't think any man could ever tire of you," he told her and she blushed.

He smiled more widely at her then and pulled her body a fraction closer to his. She didn't protest or stiffen at his movement, remaining relaxed under his touch. Her hand was the perfect kind of warmth in his and the feel of her other resting on his shoulder soothed his mind away from worrying about Robb and Dany. He needn't worry about them. Both of them were far too proper to ever do anything they shouldn't even if they did pluck up the courage to admit their feelings for one another. No, he would let them get on with whatever they were doing and focus on Adele. She was a much more pleasing thought.

* * *

It wasn't until Catelyn left the dining hall to climb up the steps to bed that the reality of Ned and three of her children leaving finally began to dawn properly on her. Dany had seen to Rickon and Robb was more than capable of looking after himself now – after all he was now the Lord of Winterfell. Therefore she had not had the usual fight to get Arya and Bran to go to bed, both of them arguing with her about how unfair it was that Sansa was allowed to stay up later than them. Instead she had merely finished her meal and pretended to watch the dancers for a while. After Jon left she had risen up from her own seat and swiftly left the hall. Robb had been caught up talking to Theon and Ser Rodrik and hadn't noticed her departing. Her son was far too perceptive, he would have known at once why she was leaving and she couldn't stand to see the pity in his eyes.

As she walked down the hallway towards her chambers she began to wonder whether or not she should have stayed in the hall and had a few more glasses of wine. It would have at least have helped her on her way to sleep. As it was she didn't think she would be able to close her eyes tonight. Getting ready for bed and climbing into bed alone was not something she had never done. Ned had often ridden out to some of the smaller holds of the North during the time they had been here at Winterfell. It was different this time though as she slipped between the cold sheets. This time he wouldn't be back in a few days or a few weeks at the most. This time he would likely be gone for years and her children with him. Sansa may never come back, not if Ned relented and consented to her marrying the Prince. Somehow she thought that he probably would be swayed by the King eventually and her heart stabbed at the thought. Would she even be able to attend the wedding?

Gods she hoped she would be able to and she hoped it wouldn't be too soon. Sansa was only fifteen and she was still a young girl at heart, shielded up here in the North from the cruelties of the world. Her daughter was a gentle and mild creature and she hoped that she would be allowed to remain as such and not become cold and bitter as she suspected Queen Cersei was. Not that she could much blame the woman; Robert's actions whilst at Winterfell had been deplorable and the Queen had sat and suffered it in silence. It was clear there was no love between then, Robert scarcely spared her a glance and was openly dismissive of her. She did not want that fate for Sansa, nor for any of her children. All she could do was hope that Prince Joffrey was nothing like his father.

* * *

**A/N: **I admit I had a little cackle to myself when I wrote that last sentence.

Anyway, thoughts?

:)


	6. True Colours

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you. Just one thing I did want to mention (someone drew my attention to it in a review) and that is the ages of the characters. You may have noticed they're older than they would be in canon and I just wanted you to know that it is intentional if anyone else is wondering. I just think that GoT is such a mature setting and I feel a little uncomfortable (especially with a character like Sansa) writing them in such settings at such a young age so I've progressed them all on a few years. Hope it doesn't bother anyone!

Also, just a quick guest reviewer to reply to!

**queeninthenorth: **How to answer without giving major spoilers to the story? Answer is I really can't! Rest assured though I've considered all the things that you were worries about and I have a plan (at least I hope I do!) Glad you're enjoying anyway and hope you haven't had too many sleepless nights!

Spreading our wings a little further in this chapter guys, do let me know your thoughts!

:)

* * *

**True Colours**

* * *

_The King's Road_

* * *

Bran and Arya were clashing swords furiously with one another in their secluded little space they had found behind one of the barns the footmen were resting in. Their father was with the King and they were certain he wouldn't catch them. Even if he did the swords were only blunted tourney ones, Arya had hidden Needle down at the bottom of her trunk and didn't intend to get it back out again until they got to King's Landing. Their father had told them that they would each get their own room in the Hand's Tower so she would be able to practice there. For now sparring with Bran would have to do, even though he was a year younger than her and had not been practicing for long. He was quick though, even if his speed did make him trip over his feet on occasion.

"Rest!" Bran called out then and Arya stepped back from him, breathing hard as she lowered her blunted blade.

"Had enough?" she panted out.

"Just need a drink," he said, crossing over to where they had left some water skins in the shade.

"Not a bad idea," Arya agreed, following him over and taking the skin he offered her.

They slumped down onto the grass then and sipped in silence for a moment, both of them still breathing rather more quickly than usual. Nymeria and Bran's wolf, who he had still yet to name, came wandering over then now that their masters had stopped sparring and sniffed hopefully around the tree as if hoping there was food to be found.

"How long to King's Landing?" Bran asked her then.

"Another three weeks most like," Arya replied and his eyes widened.

"How many leagues is that?" he asked wonderingly and she shrugged.

"Thousands most likely, perhaps you could ask the Maester?" she suggested.

"Or you could ask Septa Mordane," he said.

"And confess I wasn't listening when she no doubt taught us? No thank you," she huffed and he grinned.

"Likely the Maester taught us as well," he confessed then as she returned his grin.

"Who cares anyway? Shall we get back to practice?" she questioned him and he nodded his agreement.

They had barely clashed swords twice before Arya spotted Joffrey sauntering around the barn from the corner of her eye. She was instantly on edge. He had refused to take part in any of the sparring in the tiltyard at Winterfell, only watching the others with an odd look in his eye. When Bran and Tommen had started a bout he had suggested that they used real steel. Robb had told him in a deadpan voice that real steel was not to be used by any but men and asked whether or not he was man enough to go a round with him using real steel. Joffrey had shut up then but Arya had seen him quietly seething, his eyes narrowed towards her brother for the duration of the morning.

"What's this?" Joffrey sneered then.

"What does it look like?" Arya snapped back at him as she and Bran ceased their spar.

"Not much fun … not without a real blade," Joffrey said and she narrowed her eyes.

"Robb says that we shouldn't use real blades until we're older and understand the damage they can do," Bran piped up then.

"Really?" Joffrey said, raising his eyebrows, "are you so stupid in the North that you don't know what damage a sword can do?"

Bran flushed then and Arya was immediately furious with Joffrey. Nymeria obviously sensed her irritation as she skulked to her side and let out a soft growl. Arya though she saw the look of fear cross Joffrey's features then but it was quickly replaced with his usual sneer.

"You ought to watch it," he snarled, pulling his own sword from his belt.

"Nymeria no," Arya said softly as she began to growl even more loudly.

"Best teach your wolf some manners you little bitch else I put her in her place," Joffrey hissed at her.

"What's going on?" Sansa's voice rang out then and they turned to see her walking towards them with Lady on a leash.

"I don't know why you like him so much Sansa!" Arya snapped, "Come on Bran, let's go and find Jory and father"

Bran didn't need telling twice and he and Arya almost ran back towards the barn and where hundreds of tents were being pitched around it for those who were unfortunate enough not to have a solid roof above their heads. Sansa watched them go, frowning slightly as she did, only turning back to consider Joffrey when they had disappeared from her sight. She hadn't heard much of the conversation but she had heard enough to know that Joffrey had been cruel to Bran and she did not like it one bit. She knew that Arya could be rude and would often goad people but Bran never did and she was horrified that Joffrey would be so cruel to him.

"My Lady?" he said questioningly then.

"What did my brother do to you?" she asked him then and she saw him flush pink slightly.

"It was just a jape my Lady," he said.

"I'm not certain that Bran found it very funny your Grace," she dared to say then and his hand clenched slightly behind his back.

"Forgive me my Lady, perhaps southern humour is different, I meant no offence. You can rest assured I will apologise to him at dinner," he told her.

"Oh," it was her turn to flush, "well … that is most gracious of you … I …"

"Would you care to walk with me down to the riverbank?" he asked then and her blush heightened.

"Oh … well, yes … I would your Grace," she smiled at him.

He offered his arm then and she took it happily, they were not even halfway down to the river before she forgot all about the altercation she had witnessed.

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Jon was shining the tourney blades, only half concentrating on what he was doing as his gaze was firmly fixed on Theon and Adele over by the archery boards. Theon was clearly pretending to show Adele how best to shoot a bow and arrow but Jon knew better. He was clearly using it as an excuse to place his hands on her hips and the small of her back as he corrected her stance. Jon scowled, he hated the way Theon treated women; Adele had only just got here and he was already pawing at her. The poor girl clearly had no idea of his reputation and no doubt assumed that he was just being friendly. Jon repressed a snort then – Theon was never merely friendly.

"Can I help?" Serra asked him then and he snapped his eyes from Theon and Adele.

"What?" he said in a slightly dazed voice.

"I just wondered … if I could help," the girl asked him slightly shyly as he met her eyes.

"No you're fine, I'm almost finished," he said.

"Oh," she said in a small voice, her disappointment lost on Jon as he continued on.

"Thank you though," he finally said and she blushed slightly.

"It's no matter," she told him before she practically fled to the other side of the tiltyard.

Ser Rodrik rounded the corner then and Jon saw him raise his hand to beckon Theon to him. As Theon walked over to the old knight Jon though hard for a few moments before placing the blade he had been shining back in the rack and approaching Adele who was drawing back the string of the bow over and over as she squinted at the target. It seemed Theon had yet to see fit to trust her with any actual arrows. He cleared his throat when he reached her and she turned in slight surprise before sending a smile his way.

"Can I help you with something Jon?" she asked him.

"Actually … I had hoped to help you," he said.

"Oh, that's kind of you … but Theon is already helping," she smiled again.

"Actually I hoped to help you _with _Theon," he said and her brow creased slightly.

"I don't understand," she said.

"You're new at Winterfell, you have not yet heard of his reputation," he told her lowly.

"Reputation?" she repeated, her frown deepening.

"With women," he said and she suddenly understood what he was telling her.

"Oh," she said, disappointment evident in her tone.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I would just hate for you to be _compromised_"

"I would compromise myself for no man," she said coldly then.

"Of course not … I didn't mean …" he began.

"It's fine," she stopped him, "I know you didn't … now if you'll excuse me …"

She didn't wait for him to reply, she merely handed him the bow before she turned and walked purposely back towards the keep. Jon glanced towards Theon then who was still caught up with Ser Rodrik before placing the bow back where it belonged and returned to the sword racks, best he get them back in the armoury before any rain came.

* * *

Robb was barely aware of anything at dinner as he gazed across the hall to where Dany was sat with Loral and her children. She had been sitting with them more often than not since the others had left for the Capitol and it irritated him slightly. He liked her sat up with him at the high table but thinking that made him feel guilty. Jory had gone with his father's party and he knew that Loral and her children were missing him – they had never been parted before and it wasn't easy. He himself was missing his own father and his siblings but at least he had the running of Winterfell to keep his mind occupied during the day. It was a lot for him to take in but Maester Luwin, Ser Ralf and Ser Rodrik had been incredibly patient and encouraging of him. He could only hope that he would do a good job and not let them nor his family down.

He blinked slightly stupidly then and pulled his eyes from Dany as Theon sat heavily in the chair next to him and growled out a string of curses under his breath. Robb sighed and turned to pour his friend a large flagon of strong ale which Theon picked up at once and drained in one. When he was done he slammed it down on the table and Robb refilled it and let him take a few gulps before he dared ask him what had put him in such a foul mood.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Adele," Theon seethed, his eyes narrowing as he looked towards the pretty girl who seemed to be determinedly avoiding his furious gaze.

"What has she done?" Robb frowned then, they had been getting on fine in the tiltyard earlier.

"She had completely changed, earlier she couldn't get enough of me and now she will barely speak to me nor look me in the eye," he spat out.

"Did you make an advance on her?" Robb questioned, his frown deepening.

"No," Theon sulked, taking another long drink, "never got the chance"

"Perhaps someone warned her about your reputation," Robb suggested then and he felt rather than saw Jon shifting uncomfortably on his other side.

"Damn it all," Theon growled, "I actually really liked her …"

"Sorry," Robb said but his friend didn't seem to have heard him as he drained his flagon again before bashing it down on the table and getting up to leave again.

Jon watched him go and saw Adele following his progress as well before she turned her attention back to her dining companions with a slightly thoughtful look on her face. Jon himself felt a slight twinge of guilt. He had never heard Theon admit to actually liking a girl before. Perhaps he had been too hasty in warning Adele off him? He dismissed it at once. Even if Theon liked her it didn't mean he wouldn't dishonour her. She had had a lucky escape.

"You told her didn't you?" Robb said quietly then.

"Someone had to," he said dismissively and his brother sighed.

"If Theon finds out …" Robb started.

"Are you going to tell him?" Jon almost snapped.

"Of course I'm not," he soothed him at once.

"Then he won't," Jon said with finality and Robb raised his own flagon to his lips and said no more.

He really did wish that Jon and Theon could at least try and find some common ground. Jon was his brother and Theon was as good as. He knew they were very different people and that Jon despised the way Theon was with women because of his own status as a bastard. Jon held honour above all else. Robb agreed with him but he didn't feel the same anger that Jon did towards Theon spending time in the brothel. It was Theon's choice and none of Robb's business. Jon seemed to take it personally though and Robb had given up trying to force them into activities where they had to speak to one another. It wasn't worth the time nor the effort.

* * *

_The King's Road_

* * *

Cersei was irritated and beyond frustrated. She needed Jaime but he was nowhere to be found and so her pent up frustration would have to be worked out the only other way she knew how. It might cost her a bruise but if it stopped her feeling as though she would explode then it would be worth it. She hoped Robert wasn't with one of his whores as she pounded down the hallway of the inn, quaking serving girls squeaking and curtseying and scurrying away in her wake. Pathetic.

She didn't bother knocking when she reached the room her pitiful excuse for a husband was staying in, flinging open the door and letting it bash against the wall was a far more effective way of announcing her presence. Robert looked up in surprise from where he was sat eating and drinking his was through a colossal amount of food and wine.

"What do you want?" he asked her gruffly as she kicked the door closed behind her.

"Does a wife need a reason to see her husband?" she countered in a falsely sweet voice that she knew didn't fool him in the slightest.

"When the wife is you and the husband is me then yes," he almost chuckled and she bestowed a wry smile on him. At least they both knew where they stood.

"I was bored," she told him then and he snorted.

"You must be to force yourself to endure my company," he said, "come on then, you may as well have a drink now you're here"

She took a few steps closer to him then. This wasn't going exactly how she thought it would but oddly she didn't mind. Robert poured her a healthy measure of red and handed it to her as she sat herself down in the chair opposite him. He seemed to consider her for a moment before he raised his glass to her. Surprised at the gesture she did the same.

"To a safe journey home," he stated.

"A safe journey," she echoed him and they clinked glasses before taking a long sip each.

"What do you really want?" he asked her then.

"Truth be told I came for a fight," she said honestly and he really did bark out a laugh.

"Changed your mind have you?" he questioned her and he lips twitched upwards.

"It's good wine," she stated, "I would hate to waste it by throwing it at the wall"

"You are rather good at that," he said and she almost managed a real smile.

"Why are you dining alone?" she asked him then and he sighed.

"Sick of the sight of the bloody lot of them," he growled and she took another sip of wine.

"Even Ned Stark?" she questioned him innocently and he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"He's dining with his children tonight," he told her and she nodded slowly in understanding.

"Have you spoken with him about his ward?" she asked him then and he met her eyes for a moment.

"Which one?" he asked slowly and she let her lip curl slightly.

"You know which one," she said.

"We spoke at Winterfell briefly," he told her dismissively.

"And?" she pressed.

"And he assures me she has been well brought up … she's not mad and she's no threat," he said.

"She's a Targaryen, of course she's a threat," she almost spat.

"Not so long as she's up there with the Stark's, they're loyal people," he said with finality.

"You're too soft on her," she told him.

"That's _my _decision," he said dangerously and she knew she had pushed him far enough.

"Of course it is," she said soothingly, "I was merely worried for our own children's legacy"

"Nothing will threaten it," he said, his tone more normal now.

"Good," she said simply, taking another sip, "it is not her that so concerns me as much as the whereabouts of her brother," she continued and he grunted.

"Aye," he agreed, "now that I fully intend to deal with as soon as we're back in the Capitol"

"Good," she said simply, "I'm glad you agree."

* * *

_Pentos_

* * *

Illyrio could still hear the shouts and the threats in his head as he paced up and down in his solar. The meeting with the Gold Company had not gone well and he was beginning to wonder if he had made a mistake in allowing Viserys to stay here with him. It had been an alluring prospect at first, another potential heir to the Iron Throne in his grasp but Viserys proved volatile and prone to fits of temper. He would frequently rave on about _his _throne and how _he _would take it and see Westeros punished for the fates of his family. It was this insistence on it being his throne that stopped Illyrio mentioning any other option to him. Viserys was determined to be King but he had neither the ways nor the means. Illyrio had been setting him up with meetings with various sell sword companies. The men from the Gold Company had come this morning but it had not gone well at all. Illyrio had been embarrassed, Viserys would not be acquiring their services after his furious outbursts. As the men had left Illyrio had quietly suggested a more alluring prospect to them and they had gone with thanks and a few extra coin pressed into their palms.

Viserys was more trouble than he was worth. He should have listened to Varys and ignored the pleas of the beggar King. Curiosity had got the better of him though and now he was paying for it. With a sigh he stopped his pacing and snatched up a decanter of honeyed wine, pouring himself a generous measure. As he supped on the wine he thought hard. Viserys was a liability but perhaps there was a way of getting rid of him without killing him. He didn't like to kill people lest they suddenly become of use later on. People with bloodlines like Viserys' were a rare and valuable prospect no matter how deep madness may run in them. Thankfully it seemed he was the only Targaryen left that was possessed of it. He drained his wine then and set down the empty glass before striding purposely from the room before he changed his mind. Hopefully the man would have calmed down by now. He was not so sure though as he walked out into the hidden gardens at the back of his manse.

"Can you believe them?!" Viserys demanded incredulously as soon as he caught sight of him, "Refusing me! Me?! The rightful King of Westeros!"

"Doubtless they had their reasons your Grace," he said carefully.

"I care not for their reasons," Viserys spat, "I need an army, I want _my _throne!"

"And with the right timing and planning you will get it," Illyrio soothed him and he saw that the man's agitation was lifting somewhat.

"You have another idea?" he asked him, his voice calmer; his tone almost hungry.

"There is still your sister," Illyrio told him.

"A girl," he spat, "a pathetic girl who is kept a prisoner in northern wastelands"

"Not a prisoner, a _ward_," Illyrio stressed.

"There is no difference," Viserys said dismissively.

"There is a great difference, my sources tell me she is greatly loved by the Stark family," he said.

"So?!" Viserys demanded impatiently.

"So Lord Stark has just taken up the position as Hand of the King," Illyrio explained.

"Hand of the Usurper you mean!" he spat and Illyrio bowed his head in apology.

"Of course, forgive me … but my point is that there are secrets to be uncovered, ones that I am assured will mean the downfall of the Lannister's," Illyrio said.

"Truly?" Viserys questioned, finally looking interested.

"If they fall the usurper will be beyond weak," he told him and a hungry look gleamed in his violet eyes making him look almost inhuman.

"So what do you suggest?" Viserys asked.

"I suggest making contact with your sister, because when the time comes you can use her to wield her influence on the Stark's and get them to call their banners to your side," Illyrio answered.

"How many men do they have? Will it be enough?" he demanded shortly.

"They have near twenty thousand and could call on more from the Riverlands," Illyrio answered, "and with the Kingdom on its knees it should be more than enough."

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

The wind was bitingly cold as Benjen stepped off the lift. As he walked across the top of the Wall he could hear the clank of the mechanism in his ear as it was lowered back down to the base. It soon grew fainter and fainter as the sound was lost to the whistle of the howling wind. Gods it was cold. No snow was falling though thank the Gods, only mere specks of frost being swirled into the air from the top of the Wall. He walked more briskly towards his post, seeing the hulking outline of one of his brother's stood there just waiting for him to come and relieve him of his duty. As he grew closer the man turned and Benjen turned his lips up into a grim smile as he recognised him as Yoren.

"Stark," the man greeted and Benjen nodded in response.

"Anything?" he asked him.

"Not a damn thing," Yoren said gruffly, "just like the night before and the night before that"

"We'll have to go out ranging again soon," he said, not sounding as though he was relishing the prospect in the slightest.

"Aye," Yoren agreed with him, "not me though"

"Oh?" Benjen asked him with a raise of his brows.

"The Old Bear's sending me to King's Landing for more recruits," he said and Benjen snorted.

"More thieves and rapists more than like," he said.

"Aye, more than like," Yoren agreed, "still … if it means going somewhere warmer for a few months I won't be complaining"

"You'll be welcomed at Winterfell on your way south," Benjen told him then.

"Good meal and a warm bed," Yoren sighed, "don't know why you ever left"

"Sometimes … neither do I," Benjen said wryly and his brother chuckled slightly.

"I'll leave you too it Stark," he said.

"Aye," Benjen sighed, looking out into the distance as the crunching of Yoren's retreating footsteps faded away.

Benjen let his eyes scan the night as he pulled his thick, black furs more tightly around him. There was no twitch of movement along the tree line nor further back towards the horizon. He could see no columns of smoke nor any flicker of light that would indicate a fire. He could hear nothing but the whistle of the wind in his ears as he stamped his feet heavily in his boots to stop them from going numb. At least if he was out ranging he would be on the move. He hated being stuck at the Wall standing on top of the great expanse of ice and staring out at nothing. He much preferred to be out there. He felt he was much more use out there. Something was happening, what he had told Ned was the truth. Winter was coming and it was bringing something with it. Something dark. He wanted more than anything to find out what it was so the warning could be sent out. Tales of the walkers had reached them, some wildlings that were less hostile to them had told many stories to the ranging parties that had been coming and going.

Benjen hadn't been sure whether to believe them at first, thinking that perhaps it was some jape the free folk were playing on the crows. Now though, now that more and more scouts were relaying the same tale he was starting to doubt his belief that it was no more than a jest. The scouts went far and wide. It would be unlikely indeed that the wildlings had all agreed on one story to tell all the men of the Night's Watch who came sniffing around. Leagues separated them, it would be nigh on impossible to concoct such a thing. It would take tremendous effort and as much as Benjen knew that the free folk enjoyed winding up the Night's Watch he couldn't believe that they would go to so much trouble when they had fears of their own about the coming winter to contend with. No. Something was happening and the sooner Benjen led men out there to find out what the better.

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts my dears? I'll get another out as soon as I can!

:)


	7. Suspicions

**A/N:** A new chapter for you lovely people!

**queeninthenorth: **There will be more scenes from all of them and the spectrum will only get broader the further in we get. Glad Robb and Dany grew onyou! :)

Thoughts on this one would be awesome as ever!

:)

* * *

**Suspicions**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"He said yes?" Cersei raised her eyebrows slightly at her husband.

"Of course he said yes, makes bloody sense doesn't it woman?!" he snapped back and she sighed.

"Of course it does, have you spoken to Joff?" she asked him then, ignoring his tone.

"You're his mother, you tell him," he said impatiently before he stamped from the room giving her no chance to ask any more questions.

She sat back in her chair when he had gone and thought long and hard about what it would mean for her son and for her entire family now that he was betrothed to Sansa Stark. The girl was pretty enough and very bland. She would be easily moulded into something fit to be a wife and Queen. If she was as fertile as her mother then children wouldn't be a problem. Robert had said that Ned Stark had requested she be sixteen before they wed and her husband had agreed. Cersei was glad of it, it would give her plenty of time to bring Joffrey round to the idea and to bend Sansa Stark entirely to her own will. In fact, that was something she should really start immediately. She called for one of her ladies maids then and asked them to fetch the Stark girl to her. As she waited she thought about exactly what to say to the girl. It shouldn't be difficult to gain her trust; after all she was a naïve young girl in a new and exciting place and she would doubtless be ecstatic that the Queen of all people was showering her with attention.

Cersei painted on her best smile when her maid returned with Sansa trailing in her wake looking ever so slightly apprehensive. _Good_ she thought, _she would do well to stay apprehensive of me_.

"Sit down sweet girl," Cersei smiled even more widely then.

"Thank you your Grace," she curtseyed politely before sitting where Cersei had indicated.

"Would you care for some wine?" Cersei asked.

"No thank you your Grace," Sansa replied, her eyes darting around nervously.

"There is no need to be afraid sweet girl … I would merely like to spend some time with the beauty who is to marry my son," she said.

"Oh …" Sansa said, her words deserting her. She had no idea what to say to the Queen.

"Are you excited for the wedding?" Cersei asked her.

"I have not yet thought about it, father has only just told me of the betrothal," Sansa answered her.

"But you are pleased aren't you little dove?" she questioned.

"Of course your Grace!" the girl said eagerly, "I truly cannot wait to marry the Prince"

"And I cannot wait for you to become part of our family," Cersei lied.

* * *

Ned swallowed hard before pushing open the door to the council chambers. There were only four other men in the room, two he recognised and two he did not. Renly came forwards at once and caught him in a brotherly embrace.

"Renly," he greeted the King's youngest brother with a smile when he pulled away.

"It's been too long since I saw you Lord Stark," Renly grinned at him.

"Aye, too long by half," Ned agreed, his eyes sliding to the other man he recognised.

"Lord Stark," he greeted with a short bob of his head.

"Lord Baelish," Ned returned, his greeting not quite as warm as the one he had given Renly.

"And this is Grand Maester Pycelle," Littlefinger introduced and Ned nodded his greeting.

"Maester," he said evenly.

"Lord Stark," the old man returned, his voice quaking slightly.

"And I am Varys," the eunuch introduced himself unnecessarily, he may not have recognised him but Ned had heard plenty about the man.

"Shall we to business?" Littlefinger asked then.

"Are we not waiting for the King?" Ned returned with a slight frown.

"Robert doesn't trouble himself with the small matter of council meetings," Renly grinned at him.

"Of course not," Ned muttered, why was he even surprised?

He sat himself down then and the other men did the same around him. It felt odd being at the head of this strange table as he watched Littlefinger pull out several notes from a large tome. Ned tried not to look too overwhelmed as he glanced between the Maester who looked indifferent and Renly who reclined easily in his chair as though he had no care in the world. Ned wished he could look like that. As it was he was sat stiffly with his back straight and his fists clenched lightly on the table top as he waited for Littlefinger to begin.

"First thing's first," Littlefinger finally said, pushing a pin towards Ned, "that's yours now"

"Thank you," Ned said, not knowing what else to say as he pinned the hand to his doublet.

"Now … the tourney …" he started again.

"Tourney?" Ned interrupted at once.

"In honour of yourself Lord Stark, the Hand's tourney," Littlefinger elaborated.

"That's ridiculous, I don't need a tourney, let me see that," he gestured for the papers.

"Of course," Littlefinger said, handing them to him and watching Ned as he scanned through them, his frown deepening with every word.

"How can the crown even afford this?" he questioned incredulously.

"It can't," Renly said simply before either of the other men could say anything.

"The money will be found," Littlefinger said smoothly but Ned wasn't placated.

"It's an unnecessary expense," Ned argued.

"It's what the King has ordered and we will see it done," Varys said.

"We'll see about that," Ned said lowly, pushing his chair back before standing and stamping from the room.

* * *

He pounded down the hallways towards Robert's chambers. He couldn't believe how stupid his friend was being. The crown was bankrupt. The only reason the Capitol was still functioning as it should was because it was borrowing extortionate amounts of gold from the Lannister's. Robert claimed he was surrounded by them and Ned wasn't surprised, they practically owned him. Jaime Lannister himself was guarding Robert's chambers when he approached and Ned nodded curtly to him.

"Is he busy?" he asked shortly.

"I wouldn't go that far," Jaime drawled and he nodded again before pushing open the door.

"Ned!" Robert's booming voice greeted him at once.

"We need to talk," Ned said at once.

"Sounds serious," Robert frowned, "wine Ned?"

"No … thank you," he added.

"Suit yourself," Robert said gruffly, pouring himself a healthy measure.

"This tourney …" Ned started then.

"Aah! You've seen the plans!" Robert chuckled and Ned sighed heavily.

"It's ridiculous, you will have to borrow even more money from Tywin Lannister to fund it … it is a waste of coin," Ned insisted.

"Nonsense Ned!" he exclaimed and Ned tried not to roll his eyes with difficulty.

"If you want me to help run your Kingdoms then you need …" Ned began again.

"Tourney's happening Ned," Robert said with finality then, "whether you like it or not."

* * *

Ned did his best to cut down on some of the more extravagant and expensive ideas for the tourney when he went back to the council chambers. Now it was set to be a much simpler affair but it was still costing far too much in Ned's opinion. Robert may as well throw the coin into the Blackwater. Still, there had been no reasoning with him and all that Ned could do now was try and arrange things as cheaply as possible. His head was pounding when the meeting was finally done and he stood up slowly, Renly, Varys and Littlefinger having already made their way briskly to the door. It was just him and Grand Maester Pycelle now and Ned decided to ask him about Jon Arryn as they rose up from their chairs.

"You treated Jon Arryn?" he guessed.

"That's correct Lord Stark," the Maester replied.

"It was a fever was it not?" Ned asked.

"That's correct Lord Stark, burned right through him … nothing much I could do," he said.

"Did he say anything before he died?" Ned questioned.

"He did as a matter of fact … he said 'the seed is strong'," Pycelle told him.

"The seed is strong," Ned repeated in a slightly confused tone.

"Yes my Lord," he confirmed.

"And before that, did he come to you for any remedies?" Ned asked him.

"Not for remedies no," the Maester said and Ned frowned slightly.

"For something else?" Ned questioned then, hearing the tone the old man used.

"A book is all," he said.

"What book?" Ned asked.

"A very long, very dull book … the Gods know why he wanted it," Pycelle shook his head.

"I want that book," Ned said.

"My Lord …" he began.

"I would like you to bring me the book," Ned reiterated.

"Very well my Lord … I shall look for it," Pycelle said, bowing his head shortly before shuffling his way from the room.

Ned took a few calming breaths then before following him out. Something wasn't right about the Maester's behaviour but thinking of all the possible reasons for his reluctance was just making his head pound even more furiously. Enough thinking for one day, he decided he would go and spend some time with his children, no doubt they would be able to cheer him up. Sansa's rooms stood empty when he arrived at them though and he sighed heavily. No doubt she was somewhere with Jeyne Poole or Prince Joffrey. He still wasn't completely certain that he had done the right thing in agreeing to the match but his daughter was beside herself at the thought of being the Queen one day. In her mind everything would be fine clothes and tourneys and happiness and he could only hope that she got all that and more.

As he approached Arya's room he heard what sounded like the clashing of swords and his heart instantly seemed to stop in his chest, his steps quickening as he approached his youngest daughter's chambers. He didn't even knock, too terrified as to why he could hear such sounds from within her room. He barged right in and he didn't know whether to laugh in relief or scold them at once when he saw Arya and Bran sparring furiously with one another. It seemed to take them a moment to realise he was there and it was just the time he needed to return his heartbeat to normal. When they did notice him identical looks of guilt mingled with slight defiance adorned their features and he had to fight hard not to twitch his lips up in amusement.

"And what do you think you're doing?" he asked them.

"They're blunted," Bran said at once but he noticed Arya's eyes slide to her bed.

"This doesn't look blunted," he stated, crossing the room and picking up the sword.

"I don't use it with Bran!" Arya said at once and he turned his gaze on her.

"Where did you get it?" he asked her seriously.

"It was a gift," she told him and he sighed heavily.

"This is not a toy for a little girl," he said calmly and she looked murderous.

"I know that," she stated, her grip on the blunted tourney sword tightening.

"Do you even know the first thing about sword fighting?" he asked with raised brows.

"Stick 'em with the pointy end," she said in an instant and he really did smile.

"She's telling the truth father, she only showed me it … she never fought me with it," Bran piped up.

"I'm not stupid," Arya added.

"No," Ned agree, "no you're not stupid … neither of you are … if you must continue with this then I think I'd best find you a real teacher"

"Truly?!" Bran exclaimed.

"Both of us?!" Arya burst out.

"Both of you," he confirmed, "If you insist on owning a sword it's best you know how to use it"

He had tried to sound stern but the final part came out as sheer amusement as both Bran and Arya had launched themselves at him when he said 'both of you' and wrapped their arms tightly around his waist. Ned let his own arms come and embrace them back for a long moment, delighting in how happy he had managed to make them. His thought on leaving the council chambers had been a true one, his children had managed to cheer him up.

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Catelyn smiled to herself as she walked into the dining hall to be greeted by the sight of Robb and Dany poring over what she assumed were Winterfell's accounts. She was unsurprised that Robb was going through them in the hall, he couldn't stand working in Ned's study, it made him feel as though his father was watching over him as he worked and he couldn't concentrate. Using the dining hall gave him much more room to spread the papers and he was more at ease with the constant hustle and bustle. Oddly, unlike Ned, the noise didn't seem to put him off at all. Catelyn was pleased to see that Dany was with him, she had always had a talent for numbers and eventually she had grown too good for her Septa to be able to teach her anymore and she had gone to lessons with the boys and the Maester instead. Privately Maester Luwin had told her that Dany clearly outshone the boys and that there was little left that he could teach her.

She watched as Robb leaned in a little further so he could better scrutinize something that Dany was pointing out to him. They conversed for a short time before Robb moved his quill to the paper and noted a few things down. He turned to smile at Dany then and she mirrored his movement exactly. Catelyn felt her own smile fall then as a sense of unease crept up on her, looking at them now they looked just like a Lord and Lady of their own house. She swallowed hard then and began to approach them. Robb and Dany had always been close, ever since childhood, now though it was dawning on her exactly what that could lead to and she didn't want either of them to end up with a broken heart. If it were up to her and Ned then there would be no doubt at all in her mind that Dany would be a perfect match for her eldest son. It wasn't just up to them though, the King would hear of any betrothal and he would not approve of it. Ned had to tread carefully now that he was Hand, he could not risk doing anything to upset the King and Catelyn knew well enough that giving permission for his heir to marry a Targaryen would do just that.

* * *

"You're doing it again," Theon said as he and Robb stood watching as Dany and Adele walked through the gardens arm in arm.

"So are you," Robb muttered and Theon couldn't deny it.

"She still won't speak to me," he said.

"Maybe you should give up," Robb suggested.

"Not a chance in the seven hells," Theon said, shaking his head, "not on an arse like that"

"You're a disgrace," Robb said.

"I know," Theon agreed with a slight sigh, "but tell me you've never had a sinful thought about Dany"

"I'd never act on it," he said and Theon snorted.

"Only because you wouldn't know what to do," he said.

"Or because I have to much respect for her honour … and my own," Robb countered.

"More fool you," Theon said, making to walk towards the girls, "honour is overrated"

Robb sighed heavily and followed on after him after a moment. Theon really did seem desperate to get Adele to talk to him again and perhaps if he and Dany were there too then she might not flee at once as she usually did when he came anywhere near her. The longer it went on the more guilty Robb felt, he knew why she was avoiding Theon but he couldn't tell him. If he told him then he would land Jon in trouble and he had promised his brother that he wouldn't say a word. Theon had guessed anyway, he just hadn't been able yet to get a moment with her to talk her around. Robb had to admire his determination though, usually he would have given up long before now and moved on to the next pretty girl.

"… you'll have to excuse me, I just remembered … there is an errand I have to run," Adele was saying as Robb reached them and he almost felt Theon bristle in annoyance next to him as she offered a swift smile to him and Dany and ignored Theon completely before rushing away.

"Damn it all!" Theon exclaimed as soon as she was out of earshot.

"You know we _were _enjoying a peaceful walk around the gardens," Dany commented then.

"She can't seriously ignore me forever," Theon said.

"I think she will seriously try," Dany said.

"She is doing rather well so far," Robb added and he scowled at him.

"I just need a chance to explain …" Theon began.

"That you're the world's biggest letch?" Dany supplied and he glared at her.

"Don't be too mean Dany … I think he actually likes this one," Robb commented then and she sighed.

"She likes those flowers," she finally said, "she told me earlier but she was afraid of getting into trouble if she picked any for her room"

"Those flowers?" Theon checked, pointing to the pale pink daisies that sprung up under the elm tree.

"Yes," she confirmed and his face lit up.

"Thank you Dany," he said as he crossed over to carefully pick some.

"Just don't break her heart," she warned him and he grinned to himself.

"Do you have any idea where she would have gone?" Theon asked when he finished picking the flowers.

"The library," Dany told him after scrutinizing him for a long moment, "she knows you never go in there"

"Clever girl," Theon murmured under his breath then before he practically ran back through the gardens towards the courtyard.

Robb and Dany watched him go with almost identical looks of amusement on one another's faces before they turned and grinned at one another. Without a word Robb offered her his arm and she took it before they resumed what had been her walk with Adele. As much as she liked the girl she much preferred having Robb's presence at her side. She tightened her grip on his arm involuntarily then and the extra pressure brought a smile to Robb's face as they continued walking in step through the gardens with their hearts pounding an extra beat too fast.

* * *

"Adele?" Theon called quietly from the door of the library, smirking slightly as he could have sworn he heard her curse.

"What?" she asked him as he appeared at the end of the aisle of shelves she was lurking between.

"I brought you these," he said, bringing the flowers out from behind his back.

"Why?" she asked him suspiciously although he could see the hidden delight in her eyes.

"Because I can't help but feel like you've been avoiding me," he said and she blushed slightly.

"I thought it best," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"Why?" it was his turn to ask then.

"Truth be told I was warned that your intentions are less than honourable," she told him.

"By who?" he questioned her with a frown.

"By half the women of Winterfell," she said then and he had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

"I see," he said awkwardly.

"Were your intentions towards me any different?" she asked him.

"Adele …" he started.

"Were they?" she demanded, "The truth please Theon"

"I wanted you in my bed," he said then, meeting her eyes, "that's the truth of it"

"And you wonder why I stayed away from you?" she scoffed.

"Adele I would never have forced you to do anything you didn't want," he protested.

"But you would have tried to charm your way between my legs?" she guessed and he sighed.

"Yes I would have, because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he told her.

"I'm sure you say that to all the girls," she snorted.

"Perhaps," he conceded, "but you truly are"

"You see there's the problem Theon," she sighed and he frowned at her.

"What?" he asked.

"I don't know whether you are speaking the truth or not … I can't trust you," she said.

"Can't you just give me a chance to prove myself?" he asked her.

"Theon …" she almost groaned.

"I did bring you your favourite flowers," he persuaded.

"Only because Dany told you I liked them," she shot back at him.

"Only because she knows how desperate I am for us to be friends again," he countered.

"Friends?" she said sceptically, reaching out and finally taking the flowers from him.

"For now," he said smoothly and she couldn't help but smile.

"You're a letch," she stated.

"From now on I will only letch on you," he promised.

"Is that supposed to flatter me?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he winked and she smiled even more widely.

"Very well," she said slowly, "friends"

"I will take that gladly," he returned her smile before taking her free hand and placing a kiss to the back of it.

* * *

_Pentos_

* * *

Illyrio smiled in satisfaction to himself before he closed the lid of the small but ornately decorated casket. It would be the perfect gift for Daenerys, now all he had to do was persuade Viserys that it was a good idea to send his sister a name day gift. He would send it anyway of course, she was part of his plans whether or not her brother played along, only it would be better by now for Viserys to continue thinking that he was in command. He called for a servant then and sent them to ask the volatile boy for an audience. Best it was phrased like that so he didn't _wake the dragon_. Illyrio almost rolled his eyes at that thought. Viserys was no dragon. He wondered vaguely if his sister was. From the little information Varys had sent him it seemed that the girl was beautiful and clever as well as being of gentle temperament. Kind, was one way she had been described. She sounded like the complete opposite of her brother and Illyrio had been delighted to hear it.

A knock sounded on the door of his solar then and he called for his visitor to come in. He was unsurprised to see Viserys but relieved at the same time that he did not have any trace of anger hidden in his features. Still, Illyrio knew him well enough by now to know that his temper could flare up at the slightest thing. Best he tread carefully.

"Aah, your Grace," he greeted.

"You requested my presence," Viserys stated slightly impatiently.

"And I am delighted you have gifted me with it, please … come and see what I have here," he beckoned.

"It's a box," Viserys said dully.

"Inside is a gift … for your sister," Illyrio said slowly.

"Why would you send _her_ a gift?" he demanded.

"Well I wouldn't … you however …" Illyrio trailed off and Viserys narrowed his eyes.

"Why would I send her a gift?" he altered his question then.

"You remember what we spoke of?" Illyrio reminded him.

"Of course, I am not a half wit," Viserys snapped, "but I never agreed to such a plan, I would see more sell sword companies before I make up my mind"

"Of course your Grace, but surely there is no harm in sending a gift? Her name day is coming, the gesture might sweeten her if you should have need of her in the future," he persuaded.

"What is it anyway?" Viserys asked, coming closer and lifting up the lid.

"Dragon's eggs," Illyrio told him and he snorted.

"Stone relics," he said dismissively.

"A reminder of the house she truly belongs to," Illyrio corrected him and he narrowed his eyes again.

"Fine," he finally said.

"You would have me send it to her?" Illyrio checked.

"I would," Viserys confirmed, "I think it's about time we reminded my sweet sister to whom she belongs."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you didn't think I'd forget about those eggs! More soon lovelies!

:)


	8. Grandeur

**A/N: **Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is later than I intended, RL got well and truly in my way!

Hope the update was worth the wait.

Please let me know!

**queeninthenorth: **sorry for the tension I'm causing you, I wish I could say this chapter will relieve it ... anyway, glad you're still enjoying and you're right - things will get bumpy!

:)

* * *

**Grandeur **

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"You summoned us my Lord," Jon's sarcastic tones reached Robb's ears and he turned and grinned.

"I did," he confirmed, "name days"

"Ours?" Dany asked him.

"Yes yours, who else's?" he rolled his eyes and she beamed at him.

"What about them?" Jon asked then.

"Well, they're so close together, and we've had precious little fun around here lately … I thought perhaps a joint celebration was in order," Robb said.

"That's such a wonderful idea," Dany said excitedly.

"What were you thinking?" Jon asked.

"Feasting, dancing, drinking," Robb shrugged, "what everyone else does on their name day"

"Sounds good," Jon grinned.

"Just what Winterfell needs," Dany smiled.

"And you," Robb turned to her, "are going to the seamstress and having her make you whatever you want … my gift to you"

"Are you sure?" she asked him, her eyes widening slightly.

"Unless you'd prefer something else?" he asked her teasingly and she shook her head.

"No, thank you Robb! I'll go and see her now!" she said excitedly, beaming at him before hurrying from the hall.

Both Robb and Jon watched her leave, Robb with a look of longing on his face and Jon with a rather more thoughtful expression that he turned on his brother once Dany was out of sight. Robb took a moment to realise that Jon was looking at him expectantly and he blinked rather rapidly when he did and fixed a smile on his face to which Jon raised his eyebrows.

"And can I go and see the seamstress and have her make whatever I please?" Jon asked with a slight smirk on his lips.

"If you must," Robb muttered, turning back to his papers.

"You shouldn't encourage her," Jon said then and Robb frowned before turning to look at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Dany," Jon elaborated, "you know how she looks at you … how much she likes you … you shouldn't encourage her it's not fair"

"Jon, I don't …" Robb began.

"Look … you may like her too, but you know it can never happen," Jon said softly.

"Yes, I know," he snapped back more harshly than he intended, "I just wanted to do something nice for her is that so bad?!"

"I'm sorry Robb," Jon said, shaking his head, "I didn't mean to interfere, I just don't want to see either of you hurt"

"How can we be when nothing can ever happen?" Robb asked bitterly and Jon sighed.

"I really am sorry," he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

* * *

When Jon left him alone Robb sat heavily at the table and dropped his head into his hands, massaging his temples firmly as he tried to stop his mind racing with thoughts of Dany. Theon had warned him. Now Jon had warned him. Who next? Were his feelings really so obvious? And hers. His stomach jolted as he remembered exactly what Jon had said. _You know how she looks at you_. Did he? Did he know? He always just assumed it was him, him who had the desire for more than friendship coursing through his veins but what if she felt the same? What if she felt for him the way he felt for her?

It wouldn't make a difference, he thought bitterly. They still wouldn't be allowed to be with one another because she was a ward from a disgraced house and the King would never allow it. Dany would never be considered a match for him because he needed _better _as he would one day be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. _Better. _Who could be better than her? It mattered nothing to Robb who her family were or where they had come from or what they had done. All that mattered was her and how sweet and wonderful and kind she was. She would make a wonderful Lady of Winterfell if only she would be given the chance. His stomach twisted in knots at the mere thought.

It would do him no good though. She wouldn't be given a chance. She wouldn't even be considered as a match for him because he was considered too _good _for her. He snorted then. How could anyone ever be too good for her? Sometimes he just wished that he wasn't the eldest son; that he had been born second, or even third. That there was another ahead of him that would carry his burden and marry a woman they were supposed to. Then he would be free, free to perhaps persuade his parents and the King that Dany was the best match for him. He sighed heavily and lifted his head back up to his papers. Dreaming would do him no good. He _was _the eldest son whether he liked it or not and he had a duty to do that did not include mooning over a woman that could never be his.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Ned was grim faced as he sat himself down on one of the benches between Sansa and Arya. Bran was on Arya's other side and to Ned's irritation Littlefinger was sat next to Sansa. He had attended three more council meetings since the first and he had still not warmed to the man that had grown up a ward at Riverrun and been a companion to Catelyn. Maybe that was why. He knew damn well that Littlefinger had been in love with his sweet Cat all those years ago. How different things could have been if she had allowed Brandon to end his life. He pulled his mind away from such macabre thoughts then as the crowd began to clap and cheer for the first two opponents. Robert's booming voice could be heard several feet above him from the Royal box telling them all to get on with it. Ned didn't need to turn around to know that the Queen likely looked outraged and that Robert was more than likely drunk already.

Arya seemed to be bouncing up and down slightly in her place next to him and he smiled faintly. At least his children could enjoy this ridiculous pomp even if he couldn't stand it. He would endure the damn thing for them if it made them happy. He turned his head slightly then as Littlefinger caught Sansa up in conversation. He seemed to be telling her the story of the Hound and what had happened to him to cause such horrific scars and Ned almost stepped in to tell him to stop. It was not really the kind of tale that his gentle hearted daughter should be hearing, no doubt it would horrify her. Arya on the other hand would probably revelled in the gruesome story. Before he could step in though Littlefinger tailed off as the first two riders galloped towards one another with their lances raised high. Ned glanced at Sansa and saw she looked rather paler than usual before he turned his eyes back to the riders who clashed into one another.

He winced as the lance of the bigger man splintered right in the visor of his opponent. The crowd seemed to gasp as one as the defeated man fell from his horse and lay unmoving on the dusty ground. The victor continued to the end and pulled his helm off and Ned felt the familiar stab of recognition and revulsion as Gregor Clegane surveyed the crowd who were paying more attention to his fallen opponent.

"Is he dead?" Arya asked, leaning forwards slightly.

"I don't know," Ned told her honestly as two squires hurried to the unmoving man.

"I thought tourneys were supposed to be fun?" Bran breathed next to her then and he smiled wryly.

"Perhaps you ought to think twice before you enter any lists," Ned told him seriously.

"Who is that man?" Arya asked curiously then.

"Gregor Clegane, the mountain that rides," it was Littlefinger who answered him.

"That's the Mountain?" Arya said in disgust.

"The Hound's brother?" Sansa piped up then, looking between him and Littlefinger.

"The very same my Lady," he told her and she paled even more.

"No doubt he'll win," Arya said moodily and Ned smiled slightly.

"Don't be so sure," he said, "the bigger they are; the harder they fall"

"Who's that?" Sansa breathed then and they all turned their attentions back to the joust.

"Ser Loras Tyrell," Littlefinger told her and she stared at him.

He was quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen. Of course, she could never say so out loud as she was betrothed to the Prince but surely there was no harm in looking at him? His armour was wrought with jewelled flowers as his house sigil and a cape about him made of what looked like real roses all woven together. His dark, curly hair fanned out behind him as he trotted out into the arena to await his opponent, his eyes scanning the crowd and lingering slightly on Sansa. She felt herself blush as her blue eyes met his piercing gold stare and she had to blink rather rapidly to compose herself when he finally looked away to pull on his helm. As Ser Loras and his opponent rode furiously towards one another Sansa held her breath and could barely looked as the lances clashed. She needn't have worried, Loras' opponent was unseated but thankfully unharmed as his squire helped him up from the dust and she breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes lingering for a moment on the dark stain that had spread from the last defeated man.

The event continued and Sansa was delighted when Loras Tyrell unseated each and every opponent he came up against. Each time he won a round he handed out a white rose to a pretty girl he had spotted in the crowd and she tried not to feel envious that he hadn't picked her out for one yet. Her mother always told her she was beautiful but perhaps she was not quite good enough for these southern Lords. When Loras unseated a member of the Kingsguard to reach the final round though he approached her and handed her a red rose. She flushed as brightly as the delicate petals when he smiled at her and she could barely keep her eyes from him as he sauntered back to get ready for the final round. Eventually she tore her gaze from him to look towards who he would be facing and she froze, a look of horror on her face when she saw Gregor Clegane saddling up.

"Surely not," she whispered, her eyes darting to her father.

"Ser Loras is skilled Sansa, he'll be alright," he said but she wasn't reassured.

"The Mountain is huge, he will be maimed or killed just like all the others," she whispered furiously.

"Hush now, just wait and see," Ned soothed her.

"Oh … that is a crafty trick," Littlefinger chuckled on Sansa's other side.

"What is?" she asked him as the Mountain's stallion began to paw insistently at the ground.

"Ser Loras has changed his horse," he told her, "he's going to ride a mare in heat"

"That will drive Clegane's horse wild," Ned said.

"As I said … crafty," Littlefinger smirked and Sansa turned her eyes back to the final.

Sure enough the Mountain's horse did seem restless and his rider seemed to be having trouble controlling him as they lined up for the final round. Ser Loras on his own horse looked unaffected as he pulled on his helm and took up his lance. At the signal the two men kicked their horses into motion and Sansa held her breath as they charged at one another, just waiting for the splintering of the lances. The sound didn't come though as when they drew closer the Mountain's horse suddenly reared and the great man fell from the back of it. Loras rode on passed and when he reached the opposite end he pulled off his helm and smiled and waved at the now cheering crowd. He was the champion and Sansa finally let out her breath and clapped heartily along with everyone else.

It was Arya's shout that drew their attention to the Mountain as both she and Bran jumped up to their feet as the huge man hauled himself up from the ground and called for his sword. None of them had ever seen a sword so big, it was the size of a man. Bran had thought his father's sword Ice was huge when he had seen him with it over the years but this steel was longer than him. As soon as it was in the Mountain's hands he swung it with such ease as though it were as light as a feather and brought it swinging through the air to strike the head of his horse clean off. The thud of the stallion's body and severed head hitting the ground had all the crowd's attention on him now but the Mountain's was fixed on the man at the other end of the arena and he charged at Loras Tyrell with a roar that sounded more animal than human.

"Oh Gods he's going to kill him!" Sansa squeaked and none of them contradicted her.

Loras turned just in time to unsheathe his own sword and somehow deflect the blow that the Mountain tried to land on him. The effort caused his knees to buckle and in an instant he was knelt, his sword raising up and his eyes fearful as the man towering over him prepared to swing his great-sword again. The blow never fell though, it was knocked aside by another. By the Hound. Sansa stared and the crowd all seemed to draw breath as one as they all looked down on this rather unexpected scene. The two brothers faced one another, neither of them looking willing to back down and the hatred that flowed between them could practically be felt by the watching crowd.

"Enough!" the King's voice bellowed, "Enough of this madness! Stop it now!"

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Dany practically skipped down the hallways after she had seen the seamstress. True to his word Robb had arranged it so she could have whatever she wanted and the seamstress had the most beautiful silks and delicate fabrics in such beautiful colours and she had been loath to choose just one. In the end she had finally made up her mind and chosen a shimmering blue silk which looked almost purple in certain light and which brought out her violet eyes. The cut was rather daring and she blushed slightly at the thought of how much flesh she would be showing. It was a southern style, not something women up in the cold North would usually wear but Dany wanted something different and special to wear for the name day feast. Something that would catch Robb's eyes.

She stopped her skipping then, her heart seemingly stumbling over its own beats as she slowed to a walk, her mind racing. She shouldn't be thinking such things. She shouldn't be trying to entice a man that she could never have. What was she thinking? The truth was she wasn't, she wasn't thinking because whenever she thought of Robb all sense left her. Everything she knew, all the reasons why she could never be his all flew from her mind and she was just left with him standing before her smiling that smile and just waiting with his hand outstretched. Gods she would take that hand in an instant if he offered it but he wouldn't. He couldn't. Even _if _he thought of her in that way he would never make an advance on her because he was too good and honourable. He would never compromise her honour or his own. He was saving that for his wife and Dany felt the familiar stab of bitterness right in the very core of her when she remembered that that would never be her.

Outside the dining hall she took a deep breath to compose herself before she entered. She had intended on sitting herself with Loral and her children again but as soon as he eyes found Robb at the high table she began walking towards him. Damn it all. What did it matter if she could never be his wife? Did that mean that she had to stay away from him? Deny herself the pleasure of his company while he was still free to share it with her? He was too tempting to stay away from and she couldn't ignore the feelings anymore. Somewhere deep inside herself she needed to know whether he felt the same way she did and there was only one way for her to find out if he did.

"Did you see the seamstress?" he asked her as soon as she dropped down at his side.

"Yes," she smiled, "thank you so much … I've never had anything so fine before"

"It is not every day a woman reaches her eighteenth name day," he smiled back at her and her stomach clenched as she plucked up the courage to ask her next words.

"I thought …" she began, swallowing hard, "I thought … maybe we could ride out on the morning before the feast … we could go to the hot springs?"

"Gods we've not been there in so long," he said happily, "that's a wonderful idea Dany"

"So _we'll _go?" she checked with him, meeting his intense blue gaze.

"Yes, _we'll _go," he agreed and she let out a breath when she heard his own emphasis. He wanted it to be just them as much as she did.

"Go where?" Theon piped up as he dropped down on Robb's other side.

"Dany thought we could ride out to the hot springs," Robb told him grudgingly.

"Brilliant idea," Theon grinned, "I'll ask Adele"

"Well …" Robb began.

"And I suppose Jon will come," he went on, "and Serra and Joren if Loral allows them"

"Theon …" Robb started again.

"I'll go and ask them," he jumped up at once and Robb let out a frustrated sigh.

"Sorry," Robb said, turning to glance at Dany.

"Never mind," she said, forcing her voice to come out brightly but Robb looked at her for a moment longer and wondered if he had imagined the look of disappointment in her eyes. Maybe Jon was right. Maybe she liked him too. The thought made his heart clench and he wanted nothing more than to strangle Theon for his blatant sabotage. What he wouldn't give to get Dany on her own out there and just forget for one afternoon that he was the heir to Winterfell and that she was forbidden.

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Benjen strode across the courtyard, pulling his furs closer around him as he made his way towards the Lord Commanders quarters. He would be riding out again soon and the Old Bear wanted him to take more men this time. He wanted to know exactly what was happening beyond the Wall and Benjen was determined to find out. Likely it would be a long trip, it would take them months, winter may well have truly arrived by the time they returned but they had to discover the truth. If walkers truly were springing up again then the southern kingdoms would need to be warned. He sighed heavily as he entered Castle Black his mind wandering to his poor brother who would no doubt be at the Capitol by now. Gods he hoped Ned would escape that place alive, if there really was trouble beyond the Wall then the North would be the first kingdom the Watch would call upon. Benjen knew that Ned would rally his men at once but with him away it would be down to Robb and as much as he loved his nephew, the boy was green and did not command the respect of the bannermen yet. Robb would have to prove himself and Benjen sincerely hoped his test wouldn't come against walkers.

"Come," the Old Bear's voice commanded him almost the instant he had knocked on the door.

"You asked to see me Lord Commander," he greeted as he strode inside.

"Aye," the man nodded, "sit … we need to discuss this range of yours"

"You want to send more men," Benjen stated and he nodded again.

"Scouts, lookouts … I want eyes everywhere as you travel out Stark," he told him and Benjen nodded.

"I agree my Lord, we need to discover the truth of these wildling claims," he said.

"Take the best men Stark, don't scrimp, Yoren will be bringing back new recruits soon enough," the Old Bear said as he poured them both a flagon of ale.

"As you wish," Benjen said, deciding against voicing his opinion that Yoren would come back with the contents of King's Landing's prison.

"Something is wrong out there," the man said as he passed him his ale, "I can feel it"

"Hopefully it's just winter," Benjen said but both men knew he didn't believe his own words.

"Winter brings cold aye," he agreed with another nod of the head, "but if it's brought more we need to be prepared for it."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Ned looked up from reading over several of Robert's letters as a knock sounded at his door. Who in the name of the Gods was calling at this time? He had just been about to give up for the night as his head was pounding and his vision was beginning to swim. All he wanted was to crawl between his sheets and dream that he was still back at home at Winterfell with Cat wrapped snuggly in his arms and their children all safe and secure in their own beds. Now he had a visitor to contend with and he called out wearily for whoever it was to enter. His eyes widened slightly as the door opened to reveal Grand Maester Pycelle and he got to his feet at once when he saw the large tome that the man carried in his arms.

"Let me help you with that," Ned said at once, coming forward to take the heavy book from him.

"Thank you my Lord," the old man wheezed, "it is the book you requested, the book that Jon Arryn was reading before he passed"

"Thank you," Ned said, distracted now as his eyes sought the title of the book.

"Is there anything else you need Lord Stark?" Pycelle asked him then and he shook his head.

"No …" he said absently, "no … no thank you Maester; that is all"

"I shall leave you then Lord Stark," Pycelle said and Ned nodded gratefully to him before he turned and left his chambers.

Ned set the book down on his desk then, all thoughts of sleep deserting him as he sat heavily and stared at the title for the longest time. _The Lineage and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms_. Why in the name of the Gods would Jon Arryn have wanted to read this? Was he looking for something it there? Had he found it?

_The seed is strong. _

Jon Arryn's final words. Ned had been confused by them when Pycelle had said them. He had thought perhaps he had meant his own boy Robin but he was a sickly child, not one that could be considered strong by any stretch of the imagination. Did he mean Robert's children then? Damn it all, he couldn't think about this now, his head was pounding again and his body was screaming for sleep. He stood up from his desk. The book could wait until morning. He stripped his clothes away then and slipped into bed but his eyes didn't seem to want to close, his mind still fixed on Jon Arryn and why he would want such a book. He had asked others about what the man was doing in the weeks leading up to his death and had been told he had spent time with Stannis, that they had visited some of Robert's bastards in the city.

That in itself wasn't that unusual. It was common knowledge that Robert had children here there and everywhere that were not borne to him by the Queen. Likely he spent some coin on them and made sure they were well looked after. As Hand it would make sense for Jon Arryn to make sure that his wishes were carried out. Why was Stannis with him though? It wasn't as though Ned could even ask him either as he had gone back to Dragonstone long before he had arrived at the Capitol. Perhaps he would visit these bastards himself come morning, he had heard tell that there was one boy that worked in the smiths that was Robert's natural son. He sighed heavily then and closed his eyes. Tomorrow. He would worry about it all tomorrow. He drifted into a light and uneasy sleep then, the words the Maester had told him still ringing through his head.

_The seed is strong. _

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts lovelies?

More ASAP!

:)


	9. The Seed is Strong

**A/N: **OK, since I managed to get in a really productive weekend of writing I'm rewardimg myself (and you lot I hope) by putting up the next chapter a little earlier than anticipated. Hope you all enjoy it!

(For those who read Lionheart as well the new chapter will be up tomorrow - haven't been quite as productive with that!)

Guest thanks to do first!

**Guest: **I know! Damn Theon, but he is just trying to look out for them - albeit in an irritating fashion!

**castamere: **Everyone is trying to keep them apart because a match wouldn't be agreed between them with Robert as King and they don't want them getting hurt. I know it is sad for the moment but I'm glad Theon made you laugh!

**queeninthenorth: **Yep, Theon did really just have to lol. I know, sad face for Robb and Dany. As for your question ... as if I can give away major spoilers like that! I'm afraid you'll have to be a little patient and wait and see ;)

Anyways, I will let you all get on now, hope you enjoy this one - your thoughts as ever would be amazing!

:)

* * *

**The Seed is Strong**

* * *

_The Wolfswood_

* * *

The small party broke into a gallop as they approached their destination, the hot springs they were heading to were located in the next clearing and now they were so close none of them could wait to get to them. There were laughs and jests thrown out into the air as they all urged their horses to move faster. Theon entered the clearing first with Robb right behind him cursing as the both pulled up the reins and slid down from their mounts. When they turned they saw Jon followed by Dany and then Serra and Adele coming side by side at a rather more leisurely pace. Joren had been forbidden from coming, he was not the strongest swimmer and Loral had worried that with the others bringing wine out with them that they might let their eyes wander from him. The boy had raged and sulked but his mother wouldn't waver and in the end he had waved them off in rather a sullen fashion. Still, there was the feast to look forward to as Serra had reminded him and he had looked vaguely cheered by the thought.

Robb and Theon stepped forwards then to help Dany and Adele down from their horses, Robb wished he had the nerve that Theon possessed that let him keep his hands on Adele's waist for far longer than he needed to. As it was he didn't and he let go of Dany as soon as she was safely on her feet. He was doing better than Jon though, Serra was still sat atop her mount sending his brother a rather hopeful look that Jon was utterly oblivious to. Robb caught Theon's eye then and the older man sighed rather heavily and shook his head before he himself helped Serra down from her mount. She looked vaguely disappointed but she thanked Theon graciously enough and bestowed a small smile on him before she wandered off to where Dany was shaking out a blanket for them all to sit on.

As Dany looked up and smiled at the younger girl Robb's heart pounded ferociously. How was it that her simply smiling made his chest constrict in such a way? He turned to Theon then and saw his friend eyeing Adele in what he could only describe as a hungry manner. Not that he could entirely blame Theon, Adele's dress was cut rather lowly and he could only imagine how tight her lacings must be to make her breasts appear that rounded and enticing. He bit his lip slightly. One thing he wanted was time alone with Dany and he would bet Winterfell that Theon would kill for a moment alone with Adele's breasts and so he nudged his friend slightly.

"Do me a favour," he said.

"What?" Theon asked him suspiciously.

"Just give me and Dany a little time alone," he said and Theon sighed.

"You'll only both end up hurt," Theon warned him.

"Oh come on Theon … tell me you wouldn't rather spend your time with Adele?" Robb persuaded.

"You forget we have other company …" Theon reminded him and he sighed.

"Take them with you … no doubt you can give them the slip, Jon can't stand spending time with you anyway and Serra would be glad of it," he said.

"You're a damn fool Stark," Theon sighed heavily again and Robb smiled slightly.

"Is that a yes?" he asked but Theon didn't reply, he merely began striding towards the others.

"Who fancies a walk down to the riverbanks before we take a dip in the pools?" Theon called out as he approached and Robb allowed his smile to widen.

"I'd love to," Adele said at once, rising to her feet and beaming at Theon.

"I don't know …" Dany said, biting on her lip and glancing briefly at Robb.

"I'm not bothered," Robb said, seating himself heavily down onto the blanket.

"Jon?" Adele asked then and Theon was glad that he hadn't had to ask the bastard.

"I uhm …" Jon pondered, glancing at Robb who fixed him with an insistent stare, "I suppose a walk would be good"

"I think I'll come too," Serra said then as Robb knew she would and he tried not to look too pleased with himself.

"We'll not be long," Theon said and Robb heard the underlying meaning.

He watched as the four of them ambled towards the trees, noticing how both Theon and Jon turned before they disappeared from sight to fix him with a warning look. He almost laughed then. For years he had been trying to get Theon and Jon to find some common ground and now it seemed they had. Both of them seemed determined that he stay away from Dany. He knew he should too, but as he glanced at her and saw how serene and beautiful she looked with the sunlight glinting down onto her silvery blonde hair he wondered how he ever could.

"I don't much fancy waiting for them to get back," she said then, rising up to her feet, her hands going for the lacings of her dress.

"No," Robb agreed, his heart pounding as he stood up to face her, his own hands coming to the fastenings of his doublet.

When they were children his mother and father had often brought them all out here, it was where they had all learned to swim and when they were younger they would strip off all their clothes and splash naked in the pools. When they grew older they kept their small clothes on as his parents told them to and none of them ever questioned why. Robb understood now though as Dany shrugged out of her dress and stood standing in just her under-shift. If she took that off too he would be lost, he would be utterly powerless to stop himself grabbing her and pulling her down to the ground and taking her right here. She shuddered then, from the slight chill in the air or the way he was staring at her so intensely he didn't know. Suddenly she felt rather exposed and she purposely looked away from him and walked towards the largest pool, seating herself down at the side before sliding into the perfectly warm water.

Robb watched her for a moment as she swam a few lengths before ducking her head under the water. He pulled his shirt up and over his head then before bending down to unlace his boots. He approached the water then clad in just his breeches as she emerged from the depths, her eyes lingering for a moment on his chest before she pulled them away from him. Was it his imagination or was there a blush on her cheeks? He couldn't be certain, perhaps she was just flushed from her head being submerged in the warm water.

"This certainly beats bathing," Robb stated as he too slipped into the pool.

"It certainly does," she agreed as she swam to the opposite edge and seated herself on the submerged ledge that stuck out.

"I'm glad we came," Robb said, his eyes lingering on the tops of her breasts that were exposed to the chill of the air. He could see the goose pimples beginning to appear across them and he wanted nothing more than to swim to her and place his hands over them to hear her sigh his name in his ear. He ducked his own head under the water then and did not emerge until his lungs were screaming for air. Dany was looking at him intently when he resurfaced but he determinedly avoided her gaze and swam several laps of the pool before he could avoid going to sit with her no longer.

"Do you think the others are enjoying their walk?" she asked him as his arm brushed against hers. More goose pimples appeared on her flesh then and she didn't know whether it was the breeze that had caused them or his touch.

"Probably," he commented, his mind so focused on not turning his head and claiming her lips that it was all he could manage to say.

"I'm glad I didn't go," she said then, turning her head to look at him.

"So am I," he almost whispered back as he turned his own head to face her.

Her heart was beating so fast then that she thought it might burst out of her chest. Was it her imagination or had he moved his face a fraction closer to hers? She was scared to move then. Would he kiss her? Could she let him? If she let him they would be lost. If she let him claim her lips then she knew she would be powerless to stop him claiming everything else. She couldn't trust herself with Robb. She could give him everything all too easily and she knew she had to resist. She couldn't spoil herself and she would not ruin his reputation. He was too good for that. Somehow she managed to make her lips form words, to get her body to move again.

"I am starved Robb," she declared, pulling back and hauling herself out of the water, "I hope the cooks packed us something good"

He didn't reply as she walked away, his heart still beating too quickly in his chest as he watched her pull a towelling cloth about her. She wasn't quite quick enough though, her shift had almost become transparent in the water and the wet material clung to her body. She may as well have been naked and Robb felt a stirring in his breeches that he prayed to the Gods would go away so he didn't have to sit in the pool and hide it for the rest of the day. He had been so sure that their lips would meet and move so perfectly with one another's the way he had imagined it countless times in his dreams but then she had pulled herself away from him with an excuse about being hungry. Had he been wrong to think that she returned his feelings? Gods, what if she didn't want him? That thought quelled all desire that had risen up in him as he looked towards the woman who was now purposely avoiding his gaze. Damn it all. Had he been wrong?

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jory walked at Ned's side as they manoeuvred their way through the streets of Flea Bottom. The smiths was their destination and both men kept glancing about nervously to check that they were not being followed. Ned had trusted none of his men but Jory with what he was doing. Jory was a good man, a loyal man and Ned needed one because if he uncovered something nasty then he needed to know that there was someone else who could help him get his children away and safely back to Winterfell. He looked up then and saw the sign for the smith, turning his head to Jory who nodded slightly and they picked up their pace slightly. The door was flung wide open already and Ned stepped inside after a moment's hesitation, Jory remaining outside to keep a look out up and down the streets for White Cloaks or Gold Cloaks or just anyone who looked as though they were lurking around.

"Tobho Mott?" Ned asked then and the clanging of steel subsided somewhat.

"Aye?" the man turned to him, hammer still in hand.

"Eddard Stark," he introduced himself and Tobho faltered slightly before placing the hammer down and bowing shortly.

"What can I do for you my Lord Hand?" Tobho asked him and he wondered how best to phrase his next question.

"My predecessor visited you did he not?" Ned asked then and the man nodded.

"He did … seemed more interested in the boy though than any steel," he said, jerking his head towards the back of the smith where more clanging could be heard.

"The boy?" Ned questioned him.

"Gendry," he said, "orphaned boy, mother died when he was a lad and there was never any name given for his father"

"I see," Ned said slowly, "but you took him on?"

"I did," Tobho nodded, "knew from the size of his hands he'd be a damn fine smith and I haven't been disappointed"

"I'm glad to hear it," Ned said, "Can I see the boy?"

"Of course," he nodded again, "Gendry!"

The clanging of steel finally came to a stop and Ned breathed a slight sigh of relief. It wasn't until the sound had ceased that he realised that it had been giving him a headache. A black haired boy approached him and Ned surveyed him carefully. The dark hair. The shape of his jawline. The eyes like chips of blue ice. Ned would stake his life that Gendry was Robert's. But why was Jon Arryn so interested in him?

"This is the Hand of the King boy," Tobho said then, "he's come to see you"

"My Lord," Gendry bowed his head slightly.

"I believe the previous Hand came to see you …" Ned started and Gendry nodded.

"Aye, that's true my Lord," he said.

"Why did he come?" Ned asked.

"I don't really know … he asked me some questions about my mother," Gendry said.

"And what did you tell him?" he continued.

"I don't really remember her, I just remember her singing to me and that she had fair hair," Gendry told him and Ned nodded slowly.

"Thank you," he forced a smile, "did you make this, it's fine work?" he asked then, gesturing to a helm in the shape of a bull's head.

"Aye, I did my Lord," Gendry nodded.

"I could purchase it if you'd like?" he suggested, thinking Bran would be overjoyed with it.

"Begging your pardon my Lord but that's mine," Gendry said slightly forcefully and Ned saw Tobho flush from the corner of his eye.

"Gendry …" that master smith started but Ned raised his hand.

"It's no matter," he soothed, "let the boy keep it as he's worked so hard"

"I am sorry my Lord," Tobho bowed lowly as Gendry turned back to his work.

"If the boy ever shows any interest in wielding a sword instead of just crafting them then you send him to me," Ned said quietly and Tobho nodded his agreement as Ned made his way towards the door and back into the sunlight.

Jory looked at him questioningly but he shook his head and sighed heavily. Yes, Gendry was Robert's bastard but he was still no closer to discovering why Jon Arryn had been so interested in him. What possible significance could there be?

* * *

_The Wolfswood_

* * *

Finally Jon had disappeared and Serra had trailed along after him like a lost puppy. Theon could have cheered in sheer joy as they were lost from his sight, his eyes turning back to Adele who was laid out on the riverbank, her eyes closed to the sun that was shining down on them. He approached her and knelt at her side. She didn't open her eyes and he wondered if she had even heard him coming. Before he could change his mind he bent his head to lightly brush her lips with his and her eyes fluttered open at once in surprise.

"Theon …?" she started, frowning slightly at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his lips only an inch away from hers, "I could resist you no longer"

She bit down gently on her lower lip then but Theon saw the corners of her mouth twitch and he knew that she was trying not to smile. He brought a smile to his own face then and leant in closer. She made no move to stop him nor any protest and so he captured her lips again. This time she moved her own with his, tentatively at first but it wasn't long before her confidence grew, her stomach twisting in knots as Theon let his tongue slip into her mouth. He could feel his own desire for her swelling as he kissed her, slowly lowering his body so he could press himself between her legs. Still she made no move to stop him and he tangled one hand in her hair, both of hers snaking up his shoulders and wrapping around his neck.

Tentatively he let his other hand trail lightly down the soft skin of her neck, tracing along her collarbone before running his fingers down to touch the exposed skin of her breast. She seemed to shudder underneath him but her own hands didn't come to push his away and so he allowed his hand to enclose her breast, massaging the fullness of it tenderly and causing a tiny noise of pleasure to sound at the back of her throat. He took heart from her reaction and let his thumb sneak under the bodice of her dress and circle her hardened bud slowly, the want in his breeches almost unbearable now. Her hands clenched in the hair at the back of his neck at his touch and he pressed his hips even more firmly between her legs causing her to shudder again. He knew it was desire and not fear and he smiled against her lips as he continued bruising them with his own.

Theon let the hand that had been tangled in her hair come away then, dropping it down to settle on her waist before running it firmly across the curve of her hip. His other hand continued to tease her breast and he finally pulled his lips from hers, a frustrated noise leaving her which brought another smile to his face. He kissed across her jawline then and down her neck and collarbone, following the progress that his hand had made before and grazing his teeth lightly down the swell of her breast. She really did moan then and he tried not to feel too pleased with himself as he tugged on her bodice so her full breast was exposed. She gasped in slight surprise then but he closed his mouth around her bud before she could make any protest and another soft moan came from her lips. He was encouraged by her reaction and he let the hand on her hip slowly start to gather up the skirts of her dress. He wanted to just rip them clean away from her and have her but he knew he had to take things slowly. The last thing he needed was to scare her into ignoring him for weeks again, he didn't think he could stomach that torment again.

As her skirts came up above her knee he dropped his hand still further so he could sneak it under them. Adele's stomach twisted even more tightly as she felt his rough, warm hand on the bare skin of her thigh. She should stop him now, he was taking this too far. She could let him kiss her, touch her in places that he probably shouldn't but if she let that hand wander any further then she knew he would soon attempt to take her and she couldn't let him. His thumb rubbed firmly against the smooth skin of her upper thigh then and she finally moved her own hands back to his shoulders and shoved against them. His lips came at once from her breast and she felt the breeze brushing over her exposed skin as his hand clenched slightly around her thigh.

"Enough," she managed to gasp out, wriggling away from him.

"Adele …" he groaned, shifting his body up so she could move away, her hands tugging her skirts back down, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"No Theon," she said firmly, meeting his eyes, "I can't give you my honour … that is for my husband"

"I'm sorry," he said meaningfully then.

"So am I," she said slightly sadly, "I should have stopped you before, I …"

Theon leant in then and cut her off with a light kiss before he pulled away and smiled at her. She looked slightly relieved and he sighed slightly before pressing his lips firmly to her forehead. Her own lips quirked up into a smile then and he did his best to ignore the throbbing in his breeches as he rose up to his feet and held his hand out to her. She took it gladly, smoothing her skirts once she was upright and rearranging her golden brown curls. Gods she was beautiful. Theon wished she hadn't denied him but in truth he wasn't surprised that she had. He wouldn't give up on her though, she was far too special.

"We should go back to the springs," he said then and she nodded her agreement.

They ambled along slowly, their steps in perfect time with one another's. When they reached the top of the riverbanks Adele reached out and laced her fingers with his as they made their way through the trees. Theon smiled to himself at her show of affection. It felt good having her soft, warm hand pressed tightly with his own. It felt so right.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Ned sighed heavily and ran his hand firmly across his face when he entered the tower of the Hand. Gods why had he not just stayed at Winterfell? It was on days like this when he missed Cat the most, days like this when all he wanted was her in his arms telling him that everything would be alright. She always knew what to say, how to counsel him. He wondered what she would think of all this but quickly stopped as it made his heart ache and his head pound. Slowly he began to make his way up the winding steps, passing by Sansa's door on the way and noticing that it stood slightly ajar. He paused then and wondered if she would mind him disturbing her, spending some time with his daughter could be just the thing he needed to take his mind away from Jon Arryn and Robert's bastards. Before he could knock he heard soft girlish voices trickling towards him and he sighed heavily as he realised that Sansa had Jeyne Poole with her. No doubt she wouldn't thank him for interrupting her time with her friend and he made to leave again.

"I just thank the Gods that Prince Joffrey is _nothing_ like his father," he heard Sansa say as he turned away and he froze where he was.

For a second he could think of nothing but in the next instant he was thinking of everything and he was tearing up the rest of the steps, taking them two at a time until he reached his own landing and almost ran down the hallway and into his chambers. As soon as he was inside he crossed to his desk and opened the book that the Maester had brought for him. The book that Jon Arryn had requested just before his death. The answer was in the book, Ned just knew it. He flipped through page after page furiously until he found the one he wanted and finally managed to calm himself enough to lower himself down into his chair and take a few deep breaths. When he was composed he let his eyes slowly take in the information of the Baratheon line.

It wasn't long before a pattern began to emerge. It didn't matter who married into the line and what their appearance was, the Baratheon blood always won out, all the children being born with black hair and blue eyes. Even the Targaryen blood that was also so traditionally strong was snuffed out, Steffon Baratheon had been as dark as his father with no trace of his Targaryen mother in him nor in any of his children. Robert, Renly and Stannis were all dark. Shireen was dark. It didn't matter who the mother was, the child would always favour the father. He thought of Gendry then … he had said had he not that his mother was fair and yet he was so dark. So clearly Robert's. But Robert's true children – Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were all so fair … so Lannister. Ned's heart seemed to pause in his chest then as he came to his chilling realisation.

Golden haired and green eyed. Lannister. They were not Robert's. Cersei's children were not Robert's, they couldn't be, he had the proof of it right here in front of him. Who in the name of the Gods was the father?

* * *

Robert poured Cersei a drink and she observed him coldly for a moment as he heaved his great weight into his chair. Gods she was glad he no longer deigned to visit her chambers anymore. Just the thought of him on top of her, inside of her made her feel sick. She forced a smile then as his eyes found hers and she saw them narrow suspiciously.

"How did it come to this?" he asked her and she raised her brows.

"What do you mean?" she returned and he sighed heavily.

"This," he repeated, "We can't stomach one another's company unless there is a vat of wine between us … and even then …"

"It didn't have to end up this way," she said quietly and he snorted.

"Of course it was always going to end up this way," he almost snarled but she held her gaze on him.

"I loved you," she stated and he stared at her, "in the beginning … I had so much hope for us … did you ever have any? Could there have ever been a chance?"

"No," he said gruffly after a moment and she smiled faintly again.

"It was always her," she said softly and he didn't contradict her.

"Does that make you feel better or worse?" he asked then and she took a sip of wine before answering.

"I don't know," she said, "at least I know I suppose"

"I'm going on a hunt," he announced then and she kept her expression smooth.

Of course he was going on a hunt. He hadn't been out since Winterfell and being cooped up in the Capitol was not something that thrilled Robert at all. She watched him as he took a great gulp from his wine before she moved her own glass to her lips and sipped on it, her expression not betraying how quickly her mind was racing. Yes, Robert would go on his hunt and she would make damn sure it would be his last. He would not be returning.

* * *

**A/N: **Please don't throw hate at me for the almost kiss!

I'm sorry! I have their perfect moment in my head and I'm afraid it's just not yet!

Hope you enjoyed it anyway - safe to say things are heating up ;)

More soon!

:)


	10. Certainty

**A/N: **New chapter! Which I did mean to post slightly earlier on in the evening but I got caught up elsewhere!

Anyway! Hope you enjoy!

**queeninthenorth:** I think you're the only one who was thankful! Hopefully the perfect moment for me will be the perfect moment for everyone else when it comes. Yes ... Ned knows, I'm glad you trust me - hope I don't let you down! :)

Please let me know what you think of this one guys!

Next one should be up Monday!

:)

* * *

**Certainty**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jaime pressed Cersei back against the wall as her breathing became more ragged. Gods it had been too long since he'd had her, she had been so tense since Winterfell, since Joffrey had been betrothed to Sansa Stark. Jaime didn't care if the brats would be married and spawn more brats, he just cared about having his beautiful Cersei pressed up against the wall, his tongue sliding ever so easily into her willing mouth. They were made for one another. This was how it was meant to be, how it was always meant to be. He tugged up her skirts then, delighted when she made no move to stop him. It seemed like forever since they had had one another in an exhilarating frenzy in one of the darkened hallways of the Red Keep. Robert was gone, most of his men with him. Jaime had ordered those on duty with him to the other side of the castle so he knew they would not be caught.

Cersei's legs came to wrap around his waist then, her deft hands coming to unlace him. He groaned as her touch found his bare hardness, his hands clenching further around her thighs and lifting her slightly so he could join them as one as they were supposed to be. Before he could slip into her perfection there was a scuffle behind them and she shoved at him at once, his hands releasing her so she could lower her feet back to the floor. He whirled around, his hands coming to lace himself back up and he could have laughed when he saw the source of the noise. It was one of those blasted direwolves. Which one he didn't know and he didn't care. He turned back to Cersei then and saw the relief shining in her eyes.

"Get out of here," he barked at the wolf then, waving his hand dismissively.

The wolf stared at him for a long moment before it turned and padded down the hallway, rounding the corner and out of his sight. He turned back to his sweet sister then and he knew just from the look on her face that he would not be getting anything from her tonight. Damn wolf. He'd been so damn close.

* * *

Bran woke with a start, pushing his hair from his sweaty forehead as he breathed hard. He had been in Summer's mind. He had seen through his wolfs mind. It wasn't the first time. He often roamed around the hallways of the Red Keep or out in the grounds with his wolf. Sometimes Summer would hunt and Bran would feel like it was him that was leaping gracefully through the air and sinking his teeth into the flank of an unsuspecting stag. This was the first time he had ever come across something like that though, something so shocking. Part of him wasn't quite certain what had been happening but he knew that no brother and sister should ever be doing what the Queen and Ser Jaime had been. The Queen was married to the King, she shouldn't be kissing any other man, least of all her twin brother.

As his breathing returned to normal he began to think long and hard about what to do with this information. He knew he should tell his father but that would mean admitting that his mind was somehow connected to Summer's and he wasn't sure what the reaction to that would be. Surely something like that wasn't normal? His father might not even believe him but Bran knew what he had seen. He pulled his blankets off him then and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cold stone floor. After a moment of thought he went to the door and cracked it open just far enough that he could slip out into the hallway and made his way towards Arya's bed chamber. He knocked softly at her door but heard nothing. After a moment he knocked harder and this time he heard her irritated groan and wondered if perhaps he should have gone to Sansa instead.

He dismissed that at once, Sansa loved being fawned over by the Queen and she would never believe her capable of performing such a depraved act with her own brother. Sansa would call him a liar. Sansa would tell him to keep his mouth shut. Arya would tell him what to do. Arya would persuade him to tell father and that's what he needed her to do. She opened the door then with a look of pure fury on her face and he opened his mouth to speak before she could launch an attack on him.

"It's important," he said quickly.

"It better be," she snarled at him, stepping aside so he could enter her room.

As soon as he closed the door he blurted it all out. He told her everything. How he could see into Summer's mind and how he often ran with him in his sleep. Then he told her what he had seen the Queen and Ser Jaime doing through his wolf's eyes and her own eyes widened to such an extent that he thought they might fall out of her head.

"You have to tell father," she told him firmly, just as he had known she would.

"What if he doesn't believe me?" he asked her fearfully.

"He will, he has to," she said with conviction.

"It's not normal is it?" he said quietly then and she sighed heavily.

"Sometimes I dream through Nymeria's eyes," she confessed then and he stared at her.

"Truly?" he asked her hopefully.

"Truly," she confirmed, "now go back to bed, I'll come for you in the morning and we will go and speak with father together."

* * *

Jory had only just come to wake him and they were sharing a drink of hot, sweet tea when there was an almighty pounding on Ned's door. He snapped his head around and Jory, who was closer to the door, stood up to open it. Bran and Arya appeared after a moment and Ned was about to scold them for being so disruptive when he saw the look in his son's eyes.

"What is it?" he asked at once.

"I …" Bran started, glancing at Arya for guidance and his sister nodded encouragingly.

"He saw something," Arya piped up then as Bran showed no sign of speaking.

"Something you shouldn't I'm guessing?" Ned said then and Bran managed to nod.

"He's worried you won't believe him because he saw it through Summer," Arya said then.

"What do you mean saw it through Summer?" Ned questioned with a frown.

"He dreams inside his wolfs head, just like I do with Nymeria sometimes," Arya said.

"Dreams?" Ned repeated.

"It's real," Arya said stubbornly, "what we dream is what is really happening, but we see it through them"

"Right," Ned nodded, it sounded mad but for some reason he believed his daughter. All this talk of being inside a wolf's head could wait for now anyway – right now he needed to know what Bran had seen to have seemingly rendered him mute; "Bran?" he coaxed softly.

"I saw the Queen," Bran began quietly and Ned's heart pounded.

"And?" he urged him, seeing Jory frowning from the corner of his eye.

"She was with Ser Jaime," Bran continued.

"Go on," Ned pressed him.

"They were … they were …" Bran struggled with the words.

"They were kissing," Arya said then, "and not like a brother and sister should"

"Bran is this true?" Ned asked in a deathly whisper.

"It's true father," he said, looking up to meet his gaze, "I swear it"

"I believe you," Ned nodded after a moment and he saw Bran's relief.

"My Lord …" Jory started then.

"Listen to me, you two must not speak of this to anyone do you understand me?" Ned questioned them and they nodded.

"We promise father," Arya said.

"Promise," Bran echoed at her side.

"Good … Jory, I need you to be ready at a moment's notice to get the children away from the Capitol," Ned continued.

"I'll be ready," Jory promised.

"Good," Ned managed a grim smile, "things are about to get incredibly dangerous."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Dany took a deep breath and smoothed her hands once more down the silk of her skirts as she stood at the top of the stairs. Her body was clad in the dress that Robb had insisted she had made for the name day feast. She felt utterly beautiful in the dress, knowing that it clung to her womanly shape in all the right places, her breasts that had always been rather small were boosted by the tight fit of the bodice. They would never be as ample as Adele's but they looked rounded enough in the dress and she tried not to imagine Robb's eyes on her as she began to slowly descend the stairs. There was already music and laughter spilling out from the dining hall and when she slipped round the doors she was met with a scene of celebration that instantly brought a smile to her face. Before she knew it there was a glass of wine in her hand and Loral was before her, crushing her into her arms for a moment before telling her how beautiful she looked.

Others threw compliments her way as she walked further into the hall but her eyes slid towards the top table to find Robb. When their eyes met she shuddered involuntarily and raised her glass to her lips as his eyes slid from hers to roam the entirety of her body. Just feeling his eyes on her made her stomach clench with what she could only imagine to be desire and in the next moment she saw him get to his feet and walk towards her.

"Happy name day," he said to her and she smiled at him, causing him to blink rather rapidly.

"Thank you," she returned and he smiled at her for a moment, suddenly at a loss of what to say.

"Would you like to dance?" he finally asked and she looked delighted.

"I would," she said and he held his hand out for her.

When she placed her small, soft hand in his he wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and press his lips to hers. He wanted to explore every inch of her and possess her entirely and the thought almost scared him as he looked down into her violet eyes. Was he imagining the look of want in them? He blinked then and stepped closer to her, placing his other hand gently on her waist as hers came to rest on his shoulder. They began to dance then, a mere inch between their bodies that he was aching to close. He glanced about and saw Theon and Adele dancing in much the same manner, only it seemed they had little trouble closing the gap between them. As it was there didn't seem to be a gap. Robb ached to have that confidence that seeped from Theon. He wished he could be that assertive, to take that extra step and pull Dany's body to his. If he had even an iota of the daring Theon had then he would have kissed her out by the hot springs. He would have grabbed her wrist and stopped her from going. He would have pressed his lips to hers. If he could go back he would do it.

He couldn't though. It was done. He had failed.

Her hand twitched in his then and he looked down to see her already looking up at him. The intensity of her gaze made his heart speed up alarmingly and incredibly he managed to take a tiny step towards her. They were close enough now to feel the heat coming from one another's bodies and Robb imagined that if he were to press himself to her he might just catch fire. Desire was stirring him uncomfortably as it was and the last thing he needed was for anyone to notice. He pushed it to the back of his mind and simply gazed down at Dany. He could look into her eyes for eternity and never get bored of them. If only he could. _I love you_, he said in his head then and he could have sworn that her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter as he thought it.

* * *

Everyone was caught up in watching Jon opening his gifts. He was going first as his name day had come a few days before Dany's but he had declined opening his gifts then so he and Dany could both do so at the feast. Theon had no interest in watching the bastard get presents though, he hadn't got him anything, so he all but dragged Adele out into the hallway instead. She giggled at him as he pulled her down a darkened hallway and shoved her into an alcove. She had had more than a few glasses of wine, her face was flushed prettily and her hair was coming loose from its previously perfect style. He pressed his lips to hers then and she moved hers all too willingly with his, to his surprise and delight, running her tongue along his bottom lip to ask for access. He gave her it willingly and their tongues slid together in perfect harmony. He could taste the Arbor Gold on her and he revelled in the sweetness of it. In the sweetness of her.

After a time he let his lips come down to her neck and her hands fisted in his hair as his own dropped to gather up her skirts. He felt her tense but he didn't stop. He wouldn't make a move to take her maidenhead, he wouldn't, not when she had so firmly denied him. That didn't mean he couldn't do other things to her though. He just wanted to make her come. He wanted to hear her reach that ultimate pleasure and cry out his name. He wanted to taste her, to know if she tasted that sweet everywhere.

"Theon," she gasped out in protest as he bunched her skirts up around her hips.

"Do you trust me?" he breathed against the skin of her neck, nipping at her lightly.

"We can't do this!" she said breathlessly.

"I won't take your honour," he promised her, kissing her once more before lowering himself to his knees.

"Theon what are you doing?" she asked him as he wrapped his hands around her thighs.

"I just want to taste you," he said huskily.

"What do you …?" she began but her question cut off with a pleasurable gasp as his tongue made its way between her legs.

She should stop him. Oh Gods she should stop him but she couldn't find any words as his tongue worked harder, delving deeper and causing her to moan out wantonly. Surely this was a sin? Surely letting him manipulate her body in such an intimate way was a sin? Yes, she had let him kiss her, had willingly kissed him back, and snuck her hands under his doublet to feel the hard muscles of his stomach. Had allowed him to touch her breasts, to kiss her breasts, to toy with them and make her almost wild with desire. But this? Surely this was too much?

Her mind spun then and her legs began to tremble beneath her. What in the name of the Gods was Theon doing to her? How was he managing to do this to her? Breathless cries and moans were leaving her mouth now as he continued his ministrations, her stomach tightening so hard in knots that she thought it was likely to explode. As she thought that it felt as though she did. The knots uncoiled and every single inch of her body felt tremendous release flooding through it. She moaned out again at the unfamiliar but exceptional sensation, crying out to the Gods. Crying out to Theon.

He savoured her release for a long moment. He had not been disappointed, she tasted just as good as he had imagined her to. Regretfully he made to rise to his feet then, tugging her skirts back down as he stood and looked into her eyes that were glazed over and ever so slightly unfocused. He stepped closer to her then, placing his hands on her waist and trailing light kisses across her cheek, hearing her ragged breathing in his ear.

"Are you alright?" he breathed.

"Oh Gods … yes," she almost gasped and he grinned.

"I'm glad," he whispered, "you are the most delicious thing I have ever had"

"I …" she started, blushing slightly, "can I … pleasure you?" she asked almost shyly and he could have exploded in his breeches right then and there.

"Oh Gods yes," he repeated her earlier words back to her, "but not now …" he said regretfully, "someone will have heard _that_"

"I'm sorry," she flushed and he pressed his lips to hers reassuringly.

"Don't apologise," he breathed, "I rather like the sound of you screaming my name."

* * *

Dany scolded Robb as he handed her a small box with ribbon tied around it. Her dress was her name day gift and she had not expected him to get her anything else. He merely grinned at her and she couldn't help but smile back as he urged her to open it. She did as he bid, pulling the ribbon away and easing the lid from the box. Inside was a bracelet, a simple, delicate silver thing that had a small chunk of amethyst hanging from it. She was lost for words as her fingers came to inspect the jewel, it didn't have a definitive shape to it but it could be a rough heart. Her own pounded at the though. Had Robb chose it intentionally, was there some other meaning to his gift. She rolled the gem between her fingers then and glanced at him. He met her eyes and inclined his head ever so slightly and she knew that he had chosen it intentionally. The thought made her simultaneously want to burst with happiness and burst into tears.

"Thank you Robb, it's beautiful," she whispered.

"I'm glad you like it," he said truthfully and they smiled at one another for a moment.

"There is one more here," Catelyn interrupted then and Dany turned to her.

"Who is this from?" she asked curiously.

"I have no idea," Catelyn told her, "perhaps Ned sent it from the Capitol"

"I already had Lord Stark's gift," she said as she tore the thick paper from the gift. Lord Stark's gift had been a simple letter telling her she could have as much of the good wine as she wanted. She had always favoured the expensive Dornish wines that were kept down in the cellars. Usually their consumption was limited but for a short time only Dany could have as much as she pleased and it had brought a smile to her face that Lord Stark had considered her. He must be terribly busy in the Capitol but he had found time to write to her and that made her happy.

She pulled the paper away from the ornate wooden box then and gasped in surprise at how finely made it was. Again, she pondered who could have got her such a thing as she ran her hands over the smooth carvings, glancing at Robb slightly, wondering if this was another gift from him. He looked just as puzzled as she did though and so she pushed that thought away.

"Open it," Theon said impatiently then.

She did as she was told, slowly lifting the heavy lid. There was a note in there atop three things that seemed to take the breath from her as she stared at them. She lifted the note but her eyes did not come away from the contents of the box.

"Are they …?" Robb began.

"Dragons," Dany breathed then, her free hand going to touch one of them, the stone felt curiously warm under her touch.

"Cold stones," Theon said then, his own hand going to touch another of the eggs.

"Beautiful though," Adele breathed next to him, her eyes wide as she gazed on them.

"Can I?" Jon gestured then and she nodded. He placed his own hand to one then and was surprised by how warm it was.

"Who sent them?" Catelyn asked her then and Dany finally turned her attention to the note. There were only four words written across it, none of them bearing the name of the person who had sent her such a precious gift.

_Remember who you are. _

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Benjen stared out ahead of him as the chains clanked and groaned, the passage under the Wall slowly being revealed to him. He had stood in this spot what felt like thousands of times but he had never once felt as afraid as he did now. There were thirty men behind him, the Old Bear had tried to get him to take more but Benjen had refused. They drew enough attention as it was without taking foolish numbers. Ranging was meant to be done in groups of three or four. Benjen knew more were needed this time but thirty seemed like too many. He knew damn well that likely half of them would never live to return to Castle Black. He could only hope that he would be part of the lucky half.

Benjen swallowed hard as the entrance to the tunnel was fully revealed, the clanking noises ceasing and being replaced by what he could only describe as a deafening silence. He glanced back at his fellow brothers then and smiled grimly at them, his gloved hand coming automatically to rest on the hilt of his sword. His other hand came up then to grab his horse's reins. When he stepped forward he could hear the crunch of thirty other footsteps and he steeled himself before walking purposefully into the tunnel. He could see the light at the other end and he took another deep breath as he walked towards it, inwardly praying that he would live to walk back through this tunnel once more.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"What is it?! What's going on?!" Ned demanded as he shoved his way down the hallways that were milling with people shouting various things.

"It's Robert," Renly addressed him, his face grave.

"What about him?" Ned asked, the colour draining from his own face.

"He's been gored by a boar," Renly told him and Ned stared at him.

"What?" he whispered.

"They're bringing him in now, the Maester is waiting but …" Renly tailed off.

"But?" Ned repeated.

"It's not good my Lord, I don't see how he will live … it tore right through him," he said shakily.

"Gods," Ned breathed then, the only thing he could manage.

How could this happen now? Robert couldn't die. Not now. Not now when Ned had just discovered the truth about the Lannister's. He glanced at Renly then and wondered if he should say something to Robert's youngest brother. No. No not Renly. He would have to tell Stannis. If he told Stannis it would give Cersei a chance to get away with her children. As abominable as her actions had been it was not the fault of her children. They were innocent, enough innocent blood had already coated the walls of the Red Keep and Ned wouldn't be responsible for any more. He had thought to warn Cersei, to tell her that he knew the truth about her and her children but Jory had talked him out of it and thank the Gods that he had for now Robert was gravely injured and Ned didn't think he had it in him to tell his friend the truth now on his death bed. What good would that do? Better Robert have a peaceful death and then Ned could get word to Stannis. Once that was done he would be getting as far away from the Capitol as possible. Jory was ready to take the children at his command and he would follow them on when he had done what was necessary. It was past time he went home.

* * *

**A/N: **Dun Duuuun! Hope you guys enjoyed!

:)


	11. Time to Fly

**A/N: **New chapter as promised! This one's all set in King's Landing so I think you might be able to guess what that means!

Hope you all enjoy - please let me know!

:)

* * *

**Time to Fly**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Now was his chance. Now, while Cersei was with Robert, while she was in there with her children saying their final goodbye he would make sure his own children were sent safe and far from harm. They all had their wolves, and they would have Jory. He had wanted to send them with more men but he couldn't risk them looking suspicious – he had sent one man down to the smiths with a bag of coin and a request that Tobho send Gendry off with Yoren of the Night's Watch. If things grew ugly here as he was certain they would then Robert's bastards may soon find themselves in danger. No one was safe until the Lannister's were away from the throne.

Ned hurried up the steps of the Hand's tower, bursting into his own chambers and seeing Jory waiting just as he had asked him to.

"Now?" his loyal friend asked him.

"Now," Ned nodded and Jory mirrored his gesture, a grim look on his face.

"I'll get them away my Lord," he promised.

"I'll not be far behind but don't wait for me, keep moving," Ned implored him.

"We will my Lord, I promise you," Jory swore.

"Protect them … do all you can," Ned said, trying not to let emotion overcome him.

"I will guard them as if they were my own children," Jory said and Ned nodded.

"Safe travels," he whispered then.

"And you my Lord," Jory nodded.

Ned gripped him in a fierce brotherly embrace for a moment then before he stamped from the room, hearing Jory following him out. He wished he could stay and explain it to his children but he had to get back to Robert before anyone noticed he had gone amiss. He needed to keep himself calm and collected lest anyone suspect him. He had already slipped the letter to another of his men and they had gone to send it from the raven's tower when everyone was in uproar. Ned was confident that he wouldn't have been seen and that the truth would soon be in the hands of the rightful heir to the throne. He would raise his banners for Stannis if it came to it but first he would have to escape this snake's nest with his head.

He tried not to make eye contact with anyone as he pounded down the hallways towards Robert's chambers lest they catch the truth in them. Keeping calm was his priority, he had to keep a cool head until he was certain that Jory had got the children away. Getting them out of the Capitol shouldn't be too difficult, Ned only hoped they would have a good enough head start and be far enough away to be safe when anyone thought to look for them. He came to a halt outside Robert's chambers then, pleased that it was not Jaime Lannister guarding them, and took a deep breath before he pushed open the door.

* * *

"But I don't understand! I don't _want _to go!" Sansa protested again.

"Will you _shut up_!" Arya whispered at her furiously and Jory was glad she had.

"Come on, into the stables all of you," Jory ushered them in now he was certain that no one was around.

"I want to see father," Sansa demanded then and Jory sighed.

"Listen to me," he began, looking her in the eye, "your father is following us on, but he asked me to take you all ahead"

"But why?!" she exclaimed, "I don't understand, why would he make me leave?! I'm to marry the Prince – I can't go!"

"Sounds like even more reason to go," Arya muttered so only Bran could hear and her brother managed a small smile.

"My Lady we are leaving," Jory said firmly, "now the three of you just keep quiet while I ready the horses"

"Shouldn't someone be a lookout?" Arya asked.

"If someone spots one of you lurking around you're bound to be noticed," Jory said.

"I could climb up onto the roof and lookout?" Bran suggested and he hesitated. The boy was a good climber and a lookout would be helpful.

"Alright," Jory agreed, "can you whistle?"

"Yes," Bran nodded.

"Whistle if you see someone coming," Jory told him and he nodded again.

"I'll help you with the horses," Arya said, "best we do it quickly"

Sansa watched them then, Bran sneaking out of the door and Arya and Jory moving to the back of the stables to saddle up the horses. In a split second she made her decision. If they wanted to go back to the cold North then that was fine, but she was staying here in the sun with her Prince. She slipped from the door then, clicking her fingers so Lady came to her side, pulling her cloak up over her head and running as fast as she could away from the stables, knowing that Bran would not have yet had time to climb onto the roof. She was meant to stay here and marry the Prince and give him heirs and be the Queen someday. Once she was out of sight of the stables she slowed her pace, looking back over her shoulder to check that no one was pursuing her. She decided she would go to the Godswood, if Jory came looking he would likely go back to the tower of the Hand. He wouldn't think to look in the Godswood and so that was where she would stay until she was sure he was no longer searching.

* * *

"Ready," Jory said as he pulled the fastened the final strap of the saddle meant for his own horse.

"Ready," Arya agreed with him and he nodded, turning to fetch Sansa and Bran.

"My Lady?" he said as he saw no sign of her in the stable, "Lady Sansa?"

"Sansa come out it's not funny we have to go!" Arya insisted but there was nothing but silence.

Jory felt panic heighten then and he hurried outside, looking up onto the roof and seeing a dark shape he could only assume was Bran. If Sansa had left the stables then surely he would have seen her?

"Bran?!" he hissed up and he saw him shift slightly.

"Is it time to go?" Bran asked him quietly.

"Yes, get down," Jory said and the boy began to move, "have you seen your sister?" he asked him when he was safely back on the ground again.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I saw a few small folk but no women"

"Come on, back in the stable," Jory told him, casting a look about him before he too went in.

"Where's Sansa?" Bran was asking Arya when he entered.

"I don't know, she must have snuck off – stupid Sansa," Arya almost snapped.

"She must have gone before Bran got up onto the roof," Jory almost moaned, "listen … you two stay here and stay hidden do you understand me?"

"Yes," Arya nodded.

"I'm going to find her, I will be back as soon as I can I promise you," Jory swore.

He hurried from the stables then and Arya and Bran exchanged a worried glance. Arya quietly seethed as Bran looked around for a good hiding place, she left it to him, he had always been better than her when they played the game. Even Robb would find it difficult to find him and he knew every inch of Winterfell. She shook her head then and tried not to think about Robb and home and their mother. They still had a very long journey ahead of them if they were to get back to the North. She shuddered slightly and silently prayed that Jory would come back soon.

* * *

Ned finally felt like he could breathe once Cersei and her children were dismissed by Robert. Tommen and Myrcella both had had tears streaming down their faces and even Joffrey looked rather troubled. Cersei didn't even show a flicker of emotion as she walked from the room and Ned could practically feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Why was this happening? Why did Robert have to go on a damned hunting trip and leave him to discover the depraved truth? Could he not have refrained from drinking so much and showing off? Ned sighed then. Of course he couldn't. Robert could never refrain, that had always been his problem. Food. Drink. Girls. He couldn't say no, had never even tried to say no. Gods if only Jon Arryn had managed to tell Robert the truth before his untimely death, then Ned would never have had to deal with any of this.

Robert let out a great shuddering breath then and Ned looked up to meet his eyes, trying to ignore the stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell his friend the truth, not now. The shock would likely kill him. Robert should be allowed to go to the Gods in peace and so Ned would keep his mouth shut until the last breath left him and then he would fly.

"Ned …" Robert rasped out then and he moved himself closer.

"What is it?" Ned asked him softly, "Do you need something more for the pain?"

"Damn the pain … I'm dying Ned … I need you to promise me …" Robert managed and Ned closed his eyes at the painful memory.

"_Promise me Ned"_

He'd promised her and now he would promise Robert whatever it was he wanted even if it was a lie because what else could he do?

"What would you ask of me?" Ned questioned.

"Joffrey …" he gasped, "guide him right Ned … don't let … them … take him over …"

"I'll do all I can," Ned said. It wasn't a complete lie, there would be time enough for Joffrey and the others to flee.

"Don't let them … _Lannister's _… get their … claws into him," Robert implored him.

"I'll do everything to stop them taking over," he promised, that much at least was true.

"Thank you," Robert breathed, his eyes closing, "you've … been a true friend … to me Ned … I am … sorry for … for dragging you … here …"

"I forgive you," Ned tried to chuckle and Robert coughed violently as he tried to join in.

"You're a … good man Ned …" he said then, his eyes closing again.

This time Ned knew that they wouldn't be opening again and he sighed heavily. He stood from his chair then and reached his hand out to press his fingers to Robert's neck. His thought had been right. There was no pulse beneath his touch and he moved his hand away, his eyes closing for a moment in silent prayer. When he opened them again he had to push his friend's passing to the back of his mind. He had to move.

Pycelle was on the other side of the door when he opened it and he faltered slightly. Maybe it would be better this way? Better that it was Pycelle he told, the old Maester could tell Cersei himself and hopefully it would give him enough time to get out. Gods he hoped that Jory had already got away with the children.

"Lord Stark?" Pycelle looked at him questioningly then.

"He's gone," Ned said and the old man sighed heavily, nodding his head slightly before shuffling into the room.

Ned moved his feet then, he moved them as fast as he dared as he moved down hallway after hallway praying over and over to the Gods that he had enough time.

* * *

Jory snapped his head around as the bells began to toll. That could only mean one thing – that the King had lost his fight for life. Panic rose up in him then as he tried to decide what was best to do. Lord Stark had implored him to get his children safely away _before _the death of the King but he had failed to do so. Not only that but he had lost one of the said children. He had looked everywhere he could think of for Sansa but he had not found her and now the bells were tolling his already limited time had just run out. He bit down on his lip and prayed that the Gods and Lord Stark would forgive him as he broke into a run.

Thankfully there was no one around when he reached the stables, hurrying inside and glancing around for Bran and Arya. For a second he thought that they had disappeared on him too but then he remembered that he had told them to hide.

"Bran?! Arya?!" he hissed into the darkness and in the next moment he heard shuffling noises and in another moment they had both appeared.

"Where's Sansa?" Arya asked at once.

"I couldn't find her," Jory said in a slight panic, "get up onto the horses, come on – we have to go"

"But what about Sansa?" Bran protested as Arya clambered onto her horse.

"If we stay we'll never get away," Jory told him, picking him up and placing him atop his own mount.

"We're leaving her?" Arya asked sharply and Nymeria whined at the side of her horse.

"What choice do I have Arya?!" Jory asked desperately, "Your father trusted me to get you away – I have already failed Sansa, I won't fail you two!"

"But what if they hurt her?" Bran questioned and Jory tried to ignore the stab in his stomach as he mounted his own horse.

"They won't," he said as he dug his heels into the horse, "she's betrothed to the Prince remember?"

"Only he's King now," Arya said quietly as she urged her own horse to follow Jory's out of the stable.

They would take the back streets through the poorest parts of town. Jory had ridden the route with Lord Stark on three separate occasions and they had not once seen a Gold Cloak patrolling along the streets. It was just as well, they were hardly inconspicuous with two great direwolves at their side. Even a half-wit would know that they were Stark's. Jory tried not to think about how that might affect them once they were out on the open road. First he had to concentrate on actually getting them to the open road and he urged them to go a little faster and tried to ignore the guilt over Sansa that was twisting his stomach in knots. Thinking of what could happen to her made him think of his own Serra and the thought of his own daughter in her place made him feel sick. Gods he hoped that Lord Stark would forgive him – that he would understand that he had precious little choice.

* * *

"Bring me Ned Stark," Cersei commanded coldly to the group of Gold Cloaks.

The all murmured their agreement and bowed lowly to her before making their way towards the doors. Varys kept his expression smooth as he watched them but inside his mind was working furiously. He didn't know what Cersei had planned for Lord Stark but he knew that it wouldn't be good. Stark meeting a nasty fate would do nothing for Varys' own plans and so he slipped out of a side door as he heard Cersei calling out to the Gold Cloaks again.

"And bring me his children!"

* * *

Ned could hear the clanking of armoured footsteps approaching him and he tried to keep his expression smooth and his steps purposeful as a group of four Gold Cloaks rounded the corner.

"Lord Stark! You are to be brought before the Queen!" one of them shouted.

Ned stopped then, his mind torn. If he went before Cersei then he might never see the light of day again. On the other hand he had done nothing wrong, she would be foolish indeed to harm him and risk the North rising up. Ned knew his son well enough to know that if anything happened to him the banners would be called at once. Cersei wasn't a fool. If the North rose up the Riverlands would follow – Stannis would soon join them too once he received Ned's letter.

Then again, he could just run.

He had never been the reckless one. That had been Brandon. That had been Lyanna. Their own fates probably should have cautioned him against such a foolish course of action but he had already whirled around and forced his legs into a sprint that he had not managed for years. He heard the Gold Cloaks call out to caution him, their clanking footsteps following after him but growing fainter and fainter. He was faster than them as he did not have the armour weighing him down but his legs were growing tired and his heart felt like it would burst from his chest as his breaths grew harder and harder to draw.

Ned ran down hallway after hallway, taking turn after turn until he no longer knew where he was and he had to stop, leaning heavily against a pillar and breathing hard. He could no longer hear a pursuit but he knew that it wouldn't be long before more of them caught up to him. He had done it now. He had run. He had made himself look guilty.

"He ran! We have to find Stark!"

The voice echoed down the hallway and other shouts followed. They weren't close enough yet but they soon would be and Ned felt nothing but despair as he leant against the pillar and tried to get his mind to work. He needed to think. He needed a plan. He had to get out of here, get himself back to Winterfell, back to Catelyn and back to his children. Oh Gods … what if he never saw them again?

"Lord Stark?" the voice came from right behind him and he jumped.

"Varys?" he said in utter shock, still breathing hard from his run.

"They will be here in seconds," Varys told him, "if you want to live I suggest you come with me."

* * *

Jaime watched as Cersei paced up and down, she was growing more and more frantic with every minute that went by with no sign of the Stark's. None of the Gold Cloaks had yet returned and Jaime was now starting to feel a creeping sense of unease as he and Cersei waited alone in the throne room. He knew better than to admit that to his sweet sister though, if she knew that he was worried it would only heighten her own dread. Likely she would be hysterical and one thing he could not stand was hysterical women.

"How difficult can it be to rouse them from their beds and bring them here?!" she demanded then, stopping dead in her pacing and looking at Jaime accusingly.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it … I did offer to help …" he drawled back.

"Useless," she spat, "just useless, the whole damned lot of them!"

"Would you calm down," he sighed.

"Calm down?" she repeated and he instantly regretted his careless words.

"Cersei …" he started but she rounded on him in an instant.

"You tell me to calm down when Ned Stark is loose with his brats?! He could know something – he could know anything!" she raged.

"Or he could know nothing," Jaime soothed her but she was not placated.

"Something isn't right," she muttered distractedly, "I just know it …"

He knew better than to argue with her so he just let his eyes follow her progress as she resumed her pacing. Gods he hoped she wrong. Surely she was. If Ned Stark had discovered the truth about him and Cersei then he would have run and told Robert at once. Even from his death bed the great oaf could have ordered their arrests, ordered their heads to be skewered onto spikes atop the walls. No guards had come to them though. Robert had died in ignorance, just the way it was meant to be. Cersei had got her wish – he hadn't returned from the hunting trip. Jaime had thought she might be a little happier that she no longer had to suffer being married to such an intolerable letch and that her precious son was now set to seat the Iron Throne. She wasn't happy though. She hadn't even cracked a smile. She was hell-bent on finding the Stark's and Jaime knew she would not be satisfied until they were in her grasp.

* * *

"They're looking for Lord Stark," Renly said as he paced his chambers.

"So?" Loras asked.

"So … you don't send Gold Cloaks after someone you mean to have a friendly chat with!" Renly spat at him and he sighed.

"You think they mean him harm?" he questioned him.

"I think they mean harm to anyone who is not a Lannister," Renly said darkly.

"Yourself included?" Loras asked him, a frown creasing his brow now.

"Why not?" Renly asked, his eyes panicked.

"You're still Joffrey's uncle," he tried to soothe him.

"That boy is all Lannister … and all rotten, there is nothing of Robert in him," Renly said, shaking his head.

"Then what will you do? Go back to Storm's End?" Loras questioned him.

"No," he said distractedly, "no they will expect that … I can't go there"

"But if you're this worried you can't stay here!" Loras protested.

"No," he agreed again, clenching his fists slightly.

"Do you think Lord Stark knows something?" Loras asked him then.

"Yes," Renly nodded, "he knows something … they wouldn't be hunting him otherwise, whatever it is it could bring down the Lannister's"

"Then we need to get out, we need to leave lest we are brought down with them," Loras implored.

"Yes," Renly nodded, "yes … you're right … we'll ride for Highgarden."

* * *

Cersei turned sharply towards the doors as a group of Gold Cloaks appeared. At first she had thought they had returned empty handed but then she saw Sansa Stark clamped between two of them. The girl was deathly pale and seemed to be trembling slightly and Cersei instantly wanted to rage at them. If they had undone all the hard work and false smiles and praise she had lavished on Sansa then she would not be held responsible for her actions.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she snapped, "Unhand her at once - that is your future Queen you have there!"

"Our apologies your Grace," one of the men holding Sansa said as they released their grip.

"Where are the others?!" she demanded then.

"We only found this one, she was out in the Godswood. The tower of the Hand stands abandoned – Lord Stark fled when we found him," he reported.

"Then why didn't you catch up to him?!" she hissed furiously.

"We tried your Grace, but he is nowhere to be found, nor are the other children," he said.

"Bloody fools!" she almost screamed at them, "Get out there and don't you dare return without Lord Stark and his children!"

They all bowed and fled then and Cersei tried her hardest to get her temper under control. Losing her composure in front of Sansa had not been her intention but the damned Gold Cloaks were all incompetent idiots. She would be making some changes just as soon as Ned Stark and his brats were rounded up. He had run, damn it all he had run and now she was even more terrified that the man had discovered her secret. If he knew the truth about her precious children then they would all be in danger. She would have to send men out. If Ned Stark had fled then she was certain that he would be making his way back to his bleak North to call his banners. She snapped her head to Sansa then and the girl looked at her with apprehension in her eyes as Cersei tried to work out from her expression if she knew anything about where her father and siblings had gone.

Sansa tried not to cringe as the Queen stared at her. Something was wrong. The Queen had always been so kind to her and yet now she had sent Gold Cloaks after her and the rest of her family. What could her father possibly have done to warrant them to come after them? Surely he would never have done anything wrong, he had been the King's loyal friend and Sansa was certain that he would stay loyal to Joffrey. After all, they would all be kin soon enough. Worry stirred in her chest now and she could not beat it down. Something was so very wrong. She had known it as soon as the Gold Cloaks stepped into the Godswood and roughly hauled her to her feet. She had tried to protest, to ask them what was going on but they had only told her that she was to be brought before the Queen. Now she had been brought and yet the Queen still said nothing, she merely kept staring at her with those suspicious green eyes.

Oh Gods. Why had she run away? Why had she not gone with Jory as her father had wanted? Had she just made the biggest mistake of her life?

"Now then little dove," Cersei finally spoke, her voice was soft and sweet but Sansa could sense the underlying fury, "why don't you tell me exactly where your father has gone?"

* * *

**A/N: **Ned's gone! Woooo! I've so wanted to write a story where he didn't just die at King's Landing and now I finally have! Thoughts?

:)


	12. An Unpayable Price

**A/N: **New chapter for you lovely readers.

I hope you enjoy it, any feedback as ever would be very gratefully recieved!

**Guest:** Yes, stupid Sansa - she's made a rather naive and foolish decision!

:)

* * *

**An Unpayable Price**

* * *

_Ivy Inn, The King's Road_

* * *

"Summer!" Bran called into the night.

"Don't," Jory cautioned, "there's an inn up ahead that we can rest in … best the wolves are away for the night, fewer people will recognise us that way"

"Jory's right Bran," Arya said, "they'll come back in the morning"

Bran nodded his agreement rather sulkily and they continued on with their trot down the King's Road. Jory thought it likely Gold Cloaks would soon be looking for them but until they saw any sign of it they would stay on the road where they could make better progress. They would be forced into the wilds eventually, he knew that, but until then they would push their luck as far as they could with the road. The lanterns of the tavern were bobbing into view then and Jory quickened their pace slightly. They halted at the inn when they reached it and Jory told them to stay where they were while he had a quick look inside. Arya and Bran did as they were told and waited for their guardian to return. When he did he was smiling and both of them felt instantly more at ease.

"It's quiet, just some man from the Night's Watch and his new recruits," Jory reported.

"No sign of any Gold Cloaks?" Arya asked him as she slid from her horse.

"Nothing," Jory said, "but even so … we'll move on at first light, come on in quickly – there is a hot meal and spiced wine to be had"

They followed him in, pulling their plain cloaks more securely around them. They had shed their finery before leaving the Capitol, Arya was now in a plain but warm dress and Bran in simple breeches and a tunic. The fabrics were ordinary. They looked like ordinary small folk. That's what they had to be in the company of others. Ordinary.

"What can I do for you?" the inn-keep asked kindly then.

"A room for the night and three hot meals," Jory answered as Arya and Bran skulked behind him.

"Where are you travelling to?" the round faced man asked then.

"My children and I are returning home to Barrowtown," Jory told the man their agreed story.

"A fair way to go then," the man chuckled as he accepted Jory's coin.

"Aye," Jory agreed, "but Gods willing we'll be home before winter," he joked and the inn-keep laughed heartily.

"Take yourselves a table, your food will be brought out soon enough and I'll bring you some warm spiced wine," he said jovially.

"Thank you for your kind hospitality," Jory nodded then before seeking out the least conspicuous table for them to seat themselves at.

Arya and Bran shuffled along the bench and Jory sat himself opposite them where he had a good view of the door. He may have appeared relaxed and in good spirits with the inn-keep but every single muscle in his body was tense. He was terrified for Arya and Bran. He was terrified for Sansa left behind at the Capitol. He was terrified for Lord Stark. He was terrified at the thought of leaving his adoring wife a widow and their precious children without a father. Joren was only twelve, there were so many things left that he had to teach his boy, so many things left that he should have said to all of them before he had left Winterfell. A flagon of wine was placed down on the table then followed by three rough cut wooden cups. Jory somehow managed to tear his mind away from Loral and their children, bringing a smile to his lips and thanking the serving girl who had brought it.

Their food followed not long after and they all ate in silence. When they had cleared their plates Jory sent Bran and Arya up to the room, intending to finish off the wine and they rest his own head for a few hours. Not long after they had gone though someone came and took a seat opposite him and he lowered his cup from his lips to find himself looking at a man from the Night's Watch.

"Yoren," the man introduced himself.

"Jory," he nodded, "are you headed back to the Wall?"

"Aye," Yoren nodded, "you headed back to Winterfell?"

"Barrowtown," Jory said calmly even though his heart was pounding furiously.

"That's your story, aye," Yoren said, dropping his voice, "but I never forget a face"

"What are you saying?" Jory asked him.

"I'm saying you're Captain of the Guards at Winterfell and that you're escorting Lord Stark's children back to the North," Yoren said.

"And if I am?" Jory asked.

"Then it's no business of mine," Yoren assured him, "Winterfell has always been good to me and so have the Stark's … roads dangerous though, especially with two young 'uns."

"Aye," Jory agreed, "you're not wrong there"

"We're headed north," Yoren said then, "travel with us if you like … could use another skilled man to keep the new recruits in order"

"We're leaving at first light," Jory said.

"We're leaving an hour before," Yoren returned and they shared a smile.

"I suppose we'll be getting up an hour early then," Jory said and Yoren nodded his agreement, clapping him on the back before returning to his gaggle of recruits.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Ned shivered, slipping slightly on the wet stones as he stepped off the boat. The journey had been perilous, twice Ned had thought the little fishing vessel would capsize and he had not slept for the entire duration. Consequently his eyes were heavy and his mind was clouded as he staggered his way up the beach. The rain was lashing down as it always seemed to do in these parts. The last time he had been here was eighteen years ago when he had saved Dany from Robert's wrath. The crossing then had been shorter, taken from Rook's Rest rather than the Capitol. Gods if he never stepped foot on another boat again it would be too soon. He almost laughed to himself then as he realised that if he ever wanted to actually get home he would _have _to step on another boat.

A light bobbed in the darkness then and he made his way towards it as it grew ever closer. He assumed it was someone coming down with a lantern, no doubt wondering who had landed on the beach at such an hour. He was not mistaken, an old weather-worn man held the lantern up high when he reached Ned and he looked him up and down, not recognising him. He was flanked by two guards bearing the Baratheon sigil and Ned tried to find his voice.

"I need to see Stannis," he finally managed to get out, "I am Eddard Stark … and I need to see Stannis now!"

* * *

Ned was still shivering despite the roaring fire as he stood waiting for Stannis to make his appearance. The room was deathly silent, he could only hear the crackle of the flames and the steady drip of water coming down from his soaked clothing. After what seemed like an eternity the door opened and Stannis strode in. They had never been firm friends but they got on well enough and in this moment Ned had never been happier to see anyone in his entire life.

"They say you're a traitor … you're wanted for treason," Stannis stated.

"You know me better than that Stannis," Ned said, his teeth chattering.

"I do," Stannis agreed, stepping closer to him, "I received your raven this morning"

"And?" Ned asked him as he strode around to pour two healthy measures of wine.

"And I thank you for your loyalty to my brother and to the Baratheon family," he said, passing him a glass of the wine.

"You know what this means?" Ned asked after taking a long, grateful sip.

"I'm the rightful King of Westeros," Stannis said calmly.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "and that means war."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei drained the glass and instantly reached out to pour herself another. It wasn't enough. It would not be enough until she had Ned Stark and his brats back here. Furious wasn't the word. She was utterly livid, beyond anger and beyond fear. The terror that gripped her every second of the day never let up for a second. She was even scared in her sleep when she would watch them take their heads one at a time. Joffrey. Myrcella. Tommen. Jaime would follow, telling her he would always love her before he lay his own neck along the blood drenched block. She would scream and scream and beg but no one ever listened. Hands grabbed at her, pushing her forwards towards the block, pushing her neck down onto the blood of her children and her missing half. She would always wake then, she would wake with a scream and put her hands to her neck which would be dripping in sweat. And in her sleep deprived mind for a few horrible seconds she would imagine that that sweat was blood. The blood of those she loved most in this world.

She took another long drink of wine then before she slammed the glass down on the table and looked up to consider Jaime. He had been quiet these last days. Too quiet. Ned Stark's vanishing seemed to be affecting him more than he would let on. That scared her. That scared her more than the dreams because nothing ever affected Jaime. Nothing phased him. He feared nothing. He was fearless to the point of being damn right foolish. It was something she both loved and despaired of. Her sweet Jaime. He would deny it if she accused him but she knew he was worried. His worry only served to heighten her own. She opened her mouth then, she needed him to tell her everything would be alright.

"Why have they not found him yet?" she asked.

"They will," he said and she wished she could believe him.

"What if they don't?" she demanded.

"They _will_," he repeated more forcefully.

"He knows Jaime … he knows …" she muttered distractedly, her hand fumbling for her wine glass.

"He doesn't know … and even if he did no one would believe him," Jaime assured her.

"Plenty will believe him … plenty hate us, would do anything to be rid of us!" she exclaimed almost hysterically.

"Cersei stop this," he urged her, taking the glass from her shaking hand and kneeling before her.

"They will kill us all," she whispered then, looking him dead in the eye.

"They will have to get through me first," he said forcefully and she was almost reassured.

"Promise me that no matter what happens our children will be protected," she breathed.

"I swear to you," he told her, "I swear to you that as long as there is breath in my body I will protect them and I will protect you."

She nodded then and he took her hand. She clung to it as a child would cling to their mother, not wanting to let him go. If she let him go she would be lost entirely to her fear and she was desperate to stop the darkness of it crushing her entirely.

"You need to pull yourself together," Jaime told her, "father will be arriving soon … you need to act as normally as you can, by rights you ought to be happy. Robert is gone and Joffrey is King. Father will expect you to be happy … if you continue on like this then he will suspect and you know he will not let go once his suspicions are roused …"

"I know," she whispered then and he squeezed her hand firmly as a knock sounded at the door.

Jaime dropped her hand and stood at once then, retreating to the other side of the room and seating himself before Cersei called out for her visitor to enter. It was Janos Slynt and Jaime tried not to narrow his eyes at him. The man was a menace. A corrupt menace but somehow he was still leader of the City Watch and would have to be endured – for now.

"Do you have news?" Cersei demanded shortly.

"We have searched high and low and there is no sign of Lord Stark nor his two missing children in the city," he began, "there are bands of men out looking for them but all their reports have so far shown no sign of them"

"They can't have just disappeared!" Cersei raged, jumping to her feet.

"The men will keep searching your Grace," Janos told her but she was not placated.

"Send out more men, I want the Stark's back here do you hear me?!" she demanded.

"Yes your Grace," he bowed deeply.

"Now get out of my sight!" she snapped at him and he retreated at once.

Jaime stood then and crossed to her, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. For once she didn't, she didn't push him away and tell him that it was too dangerous. She clung to him, she clung to him with all the strength that her body could muster and wished with everything that she had that he would never let go.

"We still have the girl," he murmured to her.

"You think that will stop them?" she breathed against him, her hands clutching at his doublet.

"The Stark's will not risk the little brat," he said certainly, "so long as we have her we can keep the North at bay."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Robb?!" Catelyn called, her footsteps quickening as she tore down hallway after hallway with the letter the Maester had brought before her clutched tightly in her hand. Several people asked her what the matter was as she raced towards the entrance hall. "Robb?!" she called out again as she passed the council chambers, glancing into them and seeing them empty. Her heart was pounding now as she reached the entrance hall, her steps slowing as she wondered whether or not to climb the stairs or go out into the yard. Where was her son? She spotted Theon through the open doors then and made up her mind, hurrying out of the doors and down the steps of the keep. "Theon!" she shouted out now and the man turned to her with a concerned expression on his face. Usually she never sought him out.

"What is it Lady Stark?" he asked her.

"Robb … where is Robb?!" she asked him desperately.

"He was in the tiltyard with Jon," he answered, "are you alright my Lady?!" he called after her as she suddenly turned and tore away from him at his words.

She didn't reply, she had no time to reply. She had to get to Robb and she had to get to him now. Something was so very wrong she knew it in the core of her bones. She was almost out of breath as she reached the tiltyard, hearing the clash of swords as Robb and Jon went for one another.

"Robb!" she shouted out to him and he clashed with Jon once more before holding his hand out for peace and looking towards her.

"What is it mother?" his expression was instantly that of concern as he came towards her, seeing her eyes wide and fearful.

"This," she said, pressing the letter into his hands, "the King is dead," she went on before he had even managed to unfurl it, "there is no mention of your father nor the others … why would Ned not write to me?! Something's wrong Robb I know it!"

"Calm down," Robb urged her as his eyes scanned the letter, "father may well have sent word … ravens are often delayed or lost"

"Robb don't coddle me!" she snapped, "There is something wrong I can feel it!"

"Alright!" he almost snapped back at her, "Alright … but what would you have me do? We are thousands of leagues from King's Landing"

"If anything happens …" she whispered, shaking her head.

"What could happen? Father is a loyal and honourable man," Robb soothed her.

"Yes he is! And that's exactly why I know he's in danger! With Robert gone there is no one to shield Ned from the Lannister's!" she cried.

"Why would he need shielding from the Lannister's?" Robb asked her darkly then and she faltered at the look he bestowed on her.

"The true reason your father went to King's Landing was …" she started quietly, struggling to find the words, "… was to investigate Jon Arryn's death"

"He died of a fever," he said dismissively.

"Not according to Lysa," Catelyn told him firmly and his eyes widened, "she believes that the Lannister's had him murdered"

"Why?" Robb whispered, his own eyes full of fear now.

"I don't know Robb … that's what your father was going to find out!" she said desperately.

"And you think he has …" he started and she nodded, "and now the King is dead they have all the power … if they suspect him … if he says anything …"

"Do you see Robb?! Do you see now why I am so worried?!" she demanded.

"Yes I see," he nodded, "but there is nothing I can do mother, not yet – I cannot call the banners on a whim and a feeling"

"But …" she started.

"No," he said firmly, "if we are mistaken about this it will be too late to take it back … if I call the banners it will be seen as an intent of war"

"Then what can we do?" she asked him, desperate for him to reassure her.

"We wait," he said with a grimace, "we have no other choice … we can only wait for more news, we have to be certain."

* * *

Dany found Robb later in the Godswood, having left a tearful Lady Stark in the care of Jon. From what she had worked out from Lady Stark's fractured sentences and choked sobs it seemed that Lord Stark and the other children were in danger now that the King was dead. The news of the King's demise didn't trouble her in the slightest, news of Lord Stark and the others being in danger tore at her heart. Lord and Lady Stark had always been most kind to her, they treated her just as well as they did their own children. She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to the Stark family because to her they were her own family.

Robb had his back to her as she approached him and she suddenly felt apprehensive of him. She had seen almost every side of him. Happy Robb. Angry Robb. Moody Robb. Playful Robb. All manner of Robb's. But seeing him sad and upset was something she had never encountered. He got frustrated, irritated. But he rarely got angry and she hadn't seen him cry since they were children. A small, craven part of her wanted to turn away and leave him to his own solace but she pushed it away. She couldn't leave him, not at such a time, she was ashamed with herself for even thinking it.

"Robb?" she said tentatively and he turned his head, thankfully his eyes were dry.

"Are they looking for me?" he asked and she shook her head, walking closer to him.

"No … I just wanted to make sure you were alright," she said softly, kneeling down beside him.

"I was just thinking … father always comes out here to think, he says it gives him time to sort things through in peace," he told her.

"And you thought it would help you too?" she guessed and he nodded.

"It is peaceful," he conceded after a moment, "but I still don't know what to do"

"Maybe nothing is all you can do for now," she said quietly and he nodded heavily.

"How is my mother?" he asked then.

"Upset," she said honestly, "Jon is with her though you needn't worry"

"I don't want to let anyone down Dany," he said desperately then and she moved closer.

"You could never," she whispered, laying her hand down on his shoulder.

"I wish he'd just said no!" he burst out then and she moved in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck, not knowing what else to do.

He gripped her back, his hands clenched into fists around the soft cotton of her dress and she let one of her own hands stroke soothingly through his hair. They stayed like that for a while until it began creeping into both of them that they had never been this close to one another before. They had embraced over the years … tentatively and slightly awkwardly. There was no awkwardness in the way they were pressed so tightly together now, it felt good to be in one another's arms, as though their bodies had been made to mould so perfectly against one another's.

They both pulled back slightly at the same time so their faces were but an inch away from one another's, his blue eyes seeking her violet ones and holding them fast. His heart beat so ferociously that he thought it would burst through his chest and she moved slightly closer so he could feel her warm breath against his lips. Just one more move and their lips would touch. As he thought that she did move and his pounding heart seemed to cease beating. For a second he thought they would meet but her lips instead found his cheek.

She had been too craven to press her lips to his even though every fibre of her being was longing to feel his on hers, to move them together and finally realise that hidden desire. She let her lips brush his cheek instead, softly, lightly. Once. Twice. Three times. Her lips lingered on the fourth kiss and she felt his own press against her own cheek. Lightly. Tentatively. His next kiss was firmer, more confident and insistent and she allowed her own lips to press harder against his own cheek. He trailed kisses all across her cheek, moving closer and closer to her mouth and she mirrored his advance. He pressed his lips to the crease at the corner of her mouth then and she did the same to him before both of them pulled back a fraction. One more move. One more move would change it all. They locked eyes then. How could they? Now? Now when everything was so uncertain?

"I'm sorry," he breathed and she felt his warm breath on her cheek.

"So am I," she whispered back, tears stinging her eyes.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Ned woke to a pounding on the door and groaned. It was barely dawn and he doubted very much whether he had had more than a few hours of sleep. He called out grumpily that he was coming and thankfully the banging ceased. Stannis had said that they would talk more in the morning but Ned had thought that he might at least let the sun rise properly before he summoned him. He hauled himself out of bed and dressed quickly, pulling on his boots before stamping from the room. Once this meeting with Stannis was over he would write to Catelyn and tell her that he was alright, that he had sent the children away from the Capitol. Gods he hoped she wouldn't be angry with him for leaving them. It had been the only way, surely she would see that?

He pulled his mind away from his wife then as he approached Stannis' council rooms, knocking lightly and hearing him tell him to enter after a few moments. Ned did as he was bid and came into the room. Stannis was not alone. He had with him the man with the lantern from the night before and a woman with deep red hair that was accentuated by the red robes she wore and the large ruby that was set in a choker about her neck.

"Lord Stark," Stannis greeted.

"My Lord … your Grace," he corrected himself and Stannis allowed him a thin smile.

"I trust you are well rested," Stannis said.

"Rested at least," Ned said wryly.

"This is Davos Seaworth," he introduced the weather-worn man.

"A pleasure my Lord," Davos said.

"Well met," Ned returned with a nod of his head.

"And Melisandre, a priestess of R'hllor," Stannis introduced the woman.

"My Lady," Ned said, trying not to feel uncomfortable as the woman gave him a searching look.

"Now formalities are done with, to the true matter at hand," Stannis said.

"I'll raise my banners for you," Ned said at once, "get me a ship to White Harbor, I will send word to my son to call the banners"

"Thank you," Stannis said with a nod, "I will send you on your way … but," he said with a glance to Melisandre, "there is something else I require from you"

"Name it," Ned said, missing the warning look that Davos sent his way.

"Your ward …" Stannis began and Ned was instantly wary.

"Theon?" he said almost hopefully, knowing it would not be him Stannis was concerned with.

"No … the Targaryen," Stannis said as he had known he would.

"She's no threat," Ned said at once.

"All rival claimants are a threat," Stannis countered him in an instant.

"She's no rival … she just a girl, a kind, sweet girl – she would never seek the throne, she has neither the desire for it nor the means to take it," Ned protested.

"Not yet perhaps," Melisandre said smoothly and Ned almost recoiled at the look it her eyes.

"Stannis …" he said, shaking his head slightly.

"I want the girl Stark," Stannis said with finality, "I want her handed over to me so the threat can be removed."

* * *

**A/N: **I have a feeling some people might be wondering what the hell I'm playing at now but all I can say is, I have a plan I promise!

Any thoughts would be great!

:)


	13. The Declaration

**A/N: **Hello lovely readers! A new chapter for you all which I hope you'll all enjoy!

Just to remind you; I HAVE A PLAN! Please don't hate me.

Anyway, thoughts would be awesome so let me know what you think of it!

:)

* * *

**The Declaration **

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

"No," Ned said quietly.

"Is that your final word?" Stannis asked him, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes it's my final word … Dany is part of my family, I will not hand her over to be butchered," he said, his voice shaking.

"Such a shame," Stannis said quietly and Ned heard the clank of armour behind him.

"Come now … think about this … if any harm comes to me the North will rise but not for you," he said.

"Are you threatening me Lord Stark?" Stannis asked him.

"I have near twenty thousand men! Can you really do without them?! They will not march for you if you do this!" Ned said pleadingly.

"So who will they march for?" Melisandre asked him sweetly then and Ned froze. They'd caught him in a trap. He'd condemned himself and Dany with his words.

"Take him to the cells," Stannis spat then and Ned made no more protest as strong hands gripped him.

* * *

Stannis paced up and down in his chambers. His mind was racing. Had he done the right thing in arresting Ned and having him sent down into the prison? Twenty thousand was a great number to have declare for him but now he had just ensured that they wouldn't. The North would not rise for him so long as Ned was imprisoned but then he had to have the girl, that's what Melisandre had told him. She had seen it in her flames. Her God had told her that he needed the Targaryen girl – she needed to be sacrificed to make him stronger. _Whatever it takes. _

He hadn't been convinced at first by the beautiful woman in red who had so enraptured his wife and turned her away from the Faith of the Seven. But then … then Cressen had tried to poison her and she had drank it all down. Then he had dropped dead and the poison didn't touch her. He knew then that she had power and she seemed determined to use it to help him. If she was certain that they must be rid of the Targaryen girl then they must be rid of her, it was as simple as that.

It was a shame though, Ned Stark was a good man and his banners would certainly have helped. He still had his own army though, and his fleet. Renly would join with him soon enough once he discovered what had happened. With the men from the Stormlands they would have enough, then it wouldn't matter that the North was against them. What about the Riverlands though? He shook his head then – there was no point thinking about that just yet, he had more important matters to see to. Letters to write.

He looked down at the table then and cast his eyes once more over the declarations. Hundreds had been printed as soon as he had received Ned Stark's letter. Hundreds more were still being printed. These first ones would be sent out to those closest to the Crownlands. He wanted everyone to know the truth of the Royal children and he would make damn sure that every person from the richest man to the poorest woman knew. Not all would believe it but plenty would, especially as it had come from a man with an honourable reputation. Stannis ignored the pang of guilt then and sat himself heavily down, picking up a quill and searching his mind for the name of Ned Stark's eldest son.

As he was writing the letter a knock sounded on the door and he called distractedly for his visitor to enter. Whoever had come in didn't speak as Stannis continued scratching his quill against the parchment, pausing every few minutes. He didn't want to sound too threatening lest the boy call the banners – he phrased it as a simple exchange, a bartering of sorts. It was simple in Stannis' own mind, the North needed its Lord more than some Targaryen ward. Robb Stark would see reason and hand her over and once she was within his grasp Ned Stark would be free to go. As he signed his name he finally looked up to see who had come in and sighed at the look on Davos' face. He had just known the former smuggler would be against this – he was suspicious of Melisandre as Cressen had been but at least he had not tried to make an attempt on her life. A Maester could be replaced, a man of Davos' skill and worth would be harder to come by again and Stannis had no doubt that if he threatened her Melisandre would strike the man down.

"Do you need something?" he asked then.

"Your Grace," Davos started awkwardly, "are you certain imprisoning Lord Stark is the best course of action?"

"I have been assured that it is my best interests," Stannis said, "the Targaryen threat must be eliminated for me to be safe on the throne"

"Surely the Lannister's pose more of a threat?!" Davos protested.

"So what would you suggest?" Stannis asked him, standing up from the table.

"Let Lord Stark go, you can still persuade him to raise his banners for you I don't doubt it," he said.

"And leave the Targaryen?" Stannis frowned.

"Aye," Davos insisted, "I don't know what your priestess has seen in the flames but surely twenty thousand men are of more use than one woman?"

"You underestimate her," Stannis said, "I should learn from Cressen's mistake if I were you"

"Your Grace … you must know I would never …" Davos began.

"I've heard enough," Stannis cut him off, "I've made my decision – Ned Stark stays imprisoned until his son hands over the Targaryen girl!"

* * *

_Highgarden_

* * *

"There's a bounty out on Ned Stark … and two of his children," Mace Tyrell announced.

"His children?" Loras repeated.

"What in the name of the Gods did Ned discover that they would hunt down children?" Renly said distractedly as he paced the solar.

"Something that could bring down the Lannister's?" Mace suggested.

"One would think so," Olena said drily from her seat outside on the terrace.

"Mother … this is a private discussion," Mace sighed at her.

"Then perhaps you should have closed the door," she shot back at him, "besides, you could use my input, seems you have precious little facts of your own to go on"

"And what do you know?" Mace asked her impatiently and she rose gratefully to her feet.

"I know that Ned Stark took a ship to Dragonstone when he fled King's Landing," Olena said then, a half smile on her lips as Renly and Loras looked at her in shock.

"Why?" Mace asked and she almost rolled her eyes at him.

"Why indeed? Why not to White Harbour? Wouldn't that make more sense?" she said, sighing irritably when they all still stared blankly at her.

"Stannis," Renly finally said, "he's gone to Stannis"

"Well done my dear," she praised him mockingly but he seemed oblivious to her tone.

Renly exchanged an awkward glance with Loras then as his mind raced. Ned had been in a distracted mood the last time he had seen him and that was before he had been told the news of Robert. He had seemed agitated and could not quite meet his eyes. Now he thought back on it the more he thought it likely that his initial thought had been right – Ned had discovered something … something about the Lannister's. Then he had fled … fled to Stannis. Renly put his hands to his head then as he tried to find the missing link.

Olena sighed as she looked at him. Poor boy would give himself a headache if he carried on thinking so hard. She decided she would finally put them out of their misery and drew the tightly rolled parchment from up her sleeve.

"I think this might explain everything," she said, holding it out to Renly.

He took it with a slight frown, his fingers shaking slightly as he unrolled it. At first he didn't believe his eyes, bringing the declaration closer to his face so he could better inspect it. He hadn't misread it, the words read the same the second time and the third. Finally it made sense. He had the missing link. They weren't Robert's children. Of course they weren't. It seemed so obvious now that the words were staring him in the face. How could those golden haired beauties be his? Gods, Renly had seen enough of his bastards to know that the Baratheon seed was strong. He lifted his head then, his face deathly pale. With no trueborn heir Stannis had declared himself the rightful King and Renly's head was spinning.

"You need to think fast," Olena told him.

"What do you mean?" Renly asked her in a slightly dazed manner as Loras tugged the declaration from his limp grasp.

"I mean, do you want to bow down to another brother – this one possibly one of the least popular choice for King I have ever come across – or do you want to take the throne yourself," she said, looking him dead in the eye and he stared at her.

"Mother …" Mace gasped then, taking the declaration from Loras who was holding it out to him.

"You're more popular than Stannis," Loras told him then.

"But he's older than me," Renly said.

"You would have all the support of the Stormlands," Loras persuaded him.

"And Highgarden if we come to an arrangement," Mace put in then.

"What kind of arrangement?" Renly asked him.

"You would make my daughter your Queen," Mace said and Renly stiffened.

"Margaery is the most beautiful woman in the Kingdoms … she would make a perfect and popular Queen," Olena persuaded.

"And you would have the wealth and armies of Highgarden at your disposal," Mace promised.

"If I take Margaery as my Queen?" Renly checked, glancing towards Loras.

"The sooner you're wed the sooner you can take the throne," Olena told him, seeing the look that Renly and Loras exchanged.

"You were made to be King," Loras said then, his eyes not leaving his and in that moment he made up his mind.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa had been kept in her rooms since her father and siblings had fled from the Capitol. Lady had been taken away from her and she had no idea where her wolf was being kept. She only knew that she was alive because she heard her howling at night. Every night Sansa would bury her head in her pillows and cry. She cried for her mother. For her father. For her brother's and sister's and even for her wolf but it did her no good. The guards outside her door remained unmoved, the maids who would come in and draw a bath for her and bring her meals would not speak to her. Likely they had been commanded to by the Queen. She had thought that perhaps Joffrey would come to her, that he would take pity and let her out. After all, she was still his betrothed. Wasn't she? Surely if she wasn't they would send her home. There would be no use for her if the new King didn't want to marry her.

They could just let her go home to her mother. Why would they not just let her go home to her mother? She had done nothing wrong. Why was she being punished?

She thought of her father then. The Queen had been desperate to find him, desperate to know where he was but Sansa didn't know. She didn't say a word about Arya or Bran either. She prayed that they were safe with Jory and that her father had caught up to them. Surely once he knew that she was still trapped at the Capitol he would do everything he could to see her released back to him. Her father would never willingly leave her here to rot. If he hadn't come for her then there must be something keeping him away. That thought made her want to cry again. She wanted her father. She wanted to go home. She wished she hadn't run from Jory. Gods, why had she run from Jory?

* * *

"Have you seen this?! The nerve of him!" Cersei screeched.

"Well … it is all very factually accurate …" Jaime muttered as he looked over the declaration.

"He names Joffrey a bastard!" she continued as though she hadn't heard him.

"That is his true status," he said lowly and she glared at him.

"My son is the King!" she spat.

"For now," Jaime said smoothly and her eyes flashed dangerously.

"He will continue to be, these … these … lies of Stannis' will not be tolerated!" she raged.

"Lies?" he said with a raised brow and for a moment he thought she would strike him.

"As far as _everyone_ is concerned, my children are Robert's," she hissed.

"Not everyone evidently," Jaime drawled, "come on Cersei are you really that deluded? Stannis has got information from somewhere … I would bet my sword arm that our missing Lord Stark filled him in on all the gory details"

"I knew he knew," she seethed and he sighed heavily.

"This will mean war," he told her and she blanched.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she snapped, "No one will believe this _filth!_"

"Oh please, plenty hate our family … it's only a matter of time before Stannis rallies his armies," he said certainly.

"No one likes Stannis!" she snapped.

"Better Stannis that a Lannister bastard born of incest," he said and this time she really did slap him.

He fought the urge to laugh. Cersei was deluded. She could rage at him all she wanted but the facts remained the same. Her children had no right to the throne and he was certain that Stannis would soon gather support from the Stormlands and likely Highgarden too if it was true what they said about Renly and Loras Tyrell. The North would rise for him – that was a given, and through Catelyn's Stark's ties to the Tully's the Riverlands would no doubt follow. The Vale too most likely given that Lysa Arryn was no great supporter of the Lannister's. Dorne wouldn't do a damn thing to protect them, not with the Mountain still running around free and unchecked. No, they had the Westerlands and could perhaps frighten or bribe some others to join with them. Perhaps the Frey's … that had always been a fickle lot, Walder would fight for them for the right price. Jaime snorted then, is that how desperate they had become? Considering crawling to lecherous old Lord Frey for aid?

"What's funny?!" Cersei snapped at him.

"Oh … nothing," he sighed, "or … everything, depending on how you look at it"

"If you're going to speak in riddles Jaime …" she began warningly.

"I think you need to consider the fact that we might lose this," he told her seriously.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "we will never admit defeat … we are lions and we will always, _always_, come out on top!"

* * *

_Casterly Rock _

* * *

Tywin was just about to lose his temper when the door of his study finally opened and his youngest son waddled in. He tried not to narrow his eyes at the sight of the murderous little beast as a smirk played about his lips that Tywin wanted to wipe off. If it weren't for the fact that Tyrion was his son he would have had him smothered in his sleep long ago. Not content with killing his own mother he had grown up disgracing the family name by constantly drinking himself into a stupor and bedding all of the whores in Casterly Rock. Still, the little monster was clever and Tywin had need of his cunning now. Gods he was desperate indeed.

"You summoned me," Tyrion drawled.

"As you can see … I am preparing to march," Tywin said.

"I thought you were going to take up the position of Hand, not lay siege to the Capitol," he quipped.

"I am marching on Dragonstone," Tywin said, working hard to keep his tone even.

"I see," Tyrion said, frowning slightly.

"_You _are going to the Capitol to take up the position of Hand," he told him.

"Me?" Tyrion said, raising his brows, "Cersei will never stand for it"

"Your sister will do as she's told," Tywin snapped, handing Tyrion a scroll, "my orders"

"I see," he said slowly.

"You will leave tomorrow," Tywin said briskly, "and for the love of the Gods will you keep your sister under control"

"I will do my best," Tyrion said.

"You will do better than that," he said warningly, "don't make a fool of me"

_I thought I did that by simply being born,_ Tyrion thought to himself. He bobbed his head courteously to his father then before he turned to walk from the room. Hand of the King. Now there was an honour. At least it would be if the King wasn't a jumped up little shit who had a nasty temper and a streak that Tyrion could only describe as increasingly sadistic. Still … if it annoyed Cersei then it would all be worth it. Perhaps his father might actually develop a sense of pride towards him. He snorted then as he continued on down the hallways, his father would never be proud of him. He could single-handedly save him and every one of his precious family and still he would come second to Jaime. The golden boy, the Kingslayer, the King's father. He almost laughed to himself then. How proud would his father be of precious Jaime if he knew that the contents of Stannis' declaration were entirely true?

Probably still prouder than he was of Tyrion and that realisation had the smile falling instantly from his face.

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Dany carefully set the egg back down in its casket, not taking her eyes from the smooth stone that felt so strangely warm under her touch. She hadn't told anyone about the warmth, everyone else had said how cold the eggs felt and she didn't want everyone looking at her strangely if she told them that they didn't feel cold to her at all. She had kept the eggs in her room at first but since everyone liked to wonder at the she had moved them to the library so everyone could look at them if they pleased. She had asked that no one pick them up though, she didn't mind them being touched but if someone accidently dropped one she was afraid that it might break.

"There you are," Jon's voice roused her attention then and she turned to smile at him.

"Am I needed?" she asked him and he nodded.

"Robb wondered if you could help him with the accounts, you're the best with numbers," he said.

"Where is he?" she asked then, biting her lip slightly and hoping it wouldn't be just the two of them.

"In the dining hall," he told her and she smiled again.

"I'll see you later Jon," she said before turning to walk out of the library.

"See you later," he responded as she walked away.

Once she was gone he turned his attention to the casket that contained the dragon eggs. He was glad that Dany had moved them to the library, he had been longing to see them and touch them again since the night they had arrived but he felt strange about asking her, thinking she would find his curiosity strange. There was something about them though, something about the way they felt so warm even though they were supposed to be cold stones. He reached his hand out to lay his palm on one of them then and felt the warmth just the same as he had the first time. Surely that wasn't normal? Surely they should be cold? He wondered if Dany felt them warm like he did, she had never mentioned them feeling cold like the others had. Perhaps like him she felt them warm and was unwilling to admit it. It was odd, not normal, but Jon couldn't work out why he should feel them differently. He moved his hand to touch the other two then and felt them just as warm. His brow furrowed as he tried to think of some explanation but nothing came to him and in the end he took his hand back and walked from the library.

* * *

"What's got your face all scrunched up?" Dany asked Robb as he frowned down at his papers.

"Numbers," he muttered, "I can't make head nor tail of them"

"Let me see," she said gently, walking round the table to sit herself down.

He remained standing and looked down at her as she began sifting through the accounts. He had promised the Maester that he would have them done by sun down but as the afternoon had worn on he had had to concede defeat and asked Jon to find Dany for him. He had been avoiding her since their almost kiss and he knew damn well that she had been avoiding him too. They had been so damn close but neither of them had managed to take that step – if one of them had then the other would have followed all too eagerly and that had scared him. He supposed it had scared her too and that was likely why she had been just as willing as him to stay away from one another.

She was here now though and she was beautiful as she frowned slightly in concentration, her quill scratching on a blank piece of parchment as she went through the accounts. He wasn't sure how he would be able to manage Winterfell without her. He swallowed then, thinking of that made him think of her at his side properly, officially. It made him think of her as his Lady and his wife, the woman he would spend forever with, the woman he would share children with. His imagination was running away with him then before he could stop himself and he could see her so clearly as his future. As his forever.

Robb blinked then as Grey Wind nudged his great head against his hip and whined softly. He turned his head at the movement and sighed as he saw his wolf eyeing Dany mournfully before looking up at him and fixing him with a look he could only describe as pity. Sometimes Robb thought that Grey Wind was more man than wolf. Sometimes he felt like he could read his mind, he seemed to respond more to his thoughts than he did to his spoken commands. He sighed then. If even a damn direwolf could sense what was between him and Dany then it was hopeless. Robb didn't see how he could ever wrench his heart away from her, how he was ever supposed to marry another and share his life entirely with them. It wouldn't be long. He was a man grown now and with his father in the Capitol no doubt a match would soon be found for him. Grey Wind whined again then as he thought that and he sighed heavily.

"I'm almost done," Dany said then, misinterpreting his sigh.

"Sorry," he said at once, "it wasn't aimed at you … I'm just so tired," he lied.

"You have much to contend with," she said sympathetically.

"I just wish my father would write … mother is beside herself," he confessed.

"Likely Lord Stark has written, it would not be the first time a letter has gone undelivered," she soothed.

"Likely you're right," he agreed although he was not entirely convinced.

"Nice try," she smiled knowingly as she set the quill down.

"I just want my family home again," he said quietly and she nodded sympathetically.

"No doubt they soon will be, a new King will likely mean a new Hand," she smiled.

"Yes," he agreed more heartily, "no doubt the Queen will install a member of her own family"

"Exactly," she nodded, "this is all done for you," she added, gesturing to the accounts.

"Thank you so much," he said gratefully.

"It's nothing," she said almost dismissively and he shook his head.

"Honestly Dany," he said wonderingly, "I don't know what I would ever do without you."

* * *

**A/N: **I know, I know ... I'm mean. Robb will get Stannis' letter next time - will no doubt update again mid-week.

:)


	14. Escapes

**A/N: **Some new, newey, newness for you guys!

**Tarias:** Hope you manage to get back into your account but thanks for reviewing anyway! Thank you, and yes, I know I'm mean I am sooo aware of it haha. Hopefully this will make up for my meaness, although ... I may just leave you with a whole new set of cliffies ... ;)

**SLP:** I'm not sure Stannis knows the meaning of the word! He won't be making many friends this way as you can probably imagine.

Anyway, to the chapter guys! Fair bit of action in this one so hope you all enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Escapes **

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb slammed his fists hard on the table and Catelyn jumped slightly, the others sat at the high table turning to look at him curiously and Maester Luwin in front of him looking concerned. He took a breath then and tried to make sense of the words he had just read. He couldn't stand the feeling of everyone's eyes on him though and so he stood up abruptly from the table.

"Mother," he said, his voice calmer than he had expected it to be and she stood up; "Dany," he added and she too stood, a look of confusion on her face.

He said nothing to either of them as he strode from the hall, hearing their footsteps following him in the silence of the room. The eyes of everyone were on them but he focused on nothing but the open door, turning sharply when he walked through it and pounding down the hallways towards his father's study. Once inside he turned and waited until his mother had closed the door before he spoke.

"I have word of father," he said and her heart instantly dropped.

"Why do I get the feeling it is not good news?" she asked him quietly.

"He has been imprisoned," Robb almost spat and she stared at him.

"Why?" she whispered, "Ned would never do anything to warrant being arrested … this is a Lannister plot I just know it!"

"He's not at the Capitol, he has been imprisoned at Dragonstone by Stannis Baratheon who has named the Baratheon children bastards of incest and himself the true King," Robb told her.

"But … if Ned is at Dragonstone then surely it was him who told Stannis … why would Stannis imprison him, surely he would need the North to raise its banners for him?" Catelyn frowned, none of this was making any sense to her.

"Stannis will let him go if we hand over Dany," Robb said, feeling sick, and his mother's eyes widened in understanding.

Dany stared at him as well, suddenly realising why Robb had called for her to come along as well. It was not hard to imagine why Stannis Baratheon would want her handed over, she was probably considered a threat by him and he would want her out of the way. She felt awful that Lord Stark who had been so good to her all these years had been imprisoned because of her. No doubt it would have been difficult for him to escape the Capitol and now he had been taken prisoner to ensure that the threat from her house was gone. She thought of her brother across the Narrow Sea then and suddenly wished that they had been able to smuggle her away with him all those years ago. If they had managed it then she would not be causing the Stark's all this pain now.

"I will go," she said then.

"What?!" Robb snapped at her.

"I will go to Dragonstone if it will mean Lord Stark is freed," she said.

"You will not," he snarled at her, unable to believe she would even suggest it.

"Robb …" she started.

"You're not going Dany," Catelyn spoke across her then before she could continue.

"But … Lady Stark," she started again.

"Ned would have said no," Catelyn said certainly, "doubtless that's why he's been imprisoned – he wouldn't give you up and neither will we"

"We'll free my father another way," Robb said.

"Will you call the banners?" his mother asked him grimly and he nodded.

"It doesn't look like I have much choice," he said heavily and it was her turn to nod at him.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Davos surveyed the scene in front of him, he could scarce believe what he was seeing as he watched the chanting hoards gather around the effigies of the Seven. Burning Gods. Seven hells, when had it come to this? That woman was stood there in the midst of them with her red robes flapping around her in the strong winds. He could taste the salt on his tongue as the spray of the sea was blown up around them. Some of the Queen's men were stepping forwards then with torches in their hands, all of them chanting to their Lord of Light. This was so wrong. How could Stannis stand by and allow this madness to happen? He thought this red priestess had power, had the power to make him King. Davos didn't care for magic, he didn't trust magic. Stannis didn't need some unnatural forces to make him King, he needed an army – an army he would already have if he hadn't foolishly chained Lord Stark up in the prison.

Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. He remembered so clearly pledging himself to his wife before those Gods. He remembered resting on his knees in front of their images in the sept whenever he had had need to pray. He remembered resting on his knees and conjuring up their images in his own home each time his wife had been bringing another one of their children into the world. These Gods were the Gods of Westeros, the Gods that the people worshipped – those that were not Northmen anyway. If this red woman was burning effigies how long would it be before she began burning Septon's of the faith? And how long after that before she burned anyone who worshipped the Seven?

As the torches were lowered to the wooden effigies he made up his mind. Stannis had been bewitched and he needed to do something to snap him out of it. To lift the spell. As the flames took hold and the columns of smoke stretched higher into the blackness of the night sky he resolved himself. He had to save Stannis. Making an attempt on her life would only be the end of his own. Perhaps this action would be too but at least he could go to the Gods knowing that he had done the right thing. He turned then, no one would notice his absence now, everyone's eyes were firmly fixed on the seven raging pyres, their chanting growing louder and louder as he made his way up the beach.

He could still hear them when he reached the docks although it was more a faint whisper on the wind. It still sent shivers up his spine though as he hurried towards where his son's ship was moored, thanking the Gods when it loomed out of the darkness. He had half expected his boy to be gone by now. His destination was White Harbour and that was just the stroke of luck that Davos had been waiting for.

"Dale!" he called out for his son.

"Aye father," he appeared after a moment, "we're off soon, what is it?"

"Hold off a while longer … there's some more cargo to come," Davos said and his boy frowned.

"She's full," Dale said.

"It'll not take much room," Davos implored him and his son sighed.

"I'll hold off till you return," he promised.

Davos nodded his thanks then before turning and heading back along the docks, his eyes searching for the concealed back entrance to the prison. He already had the keys, Stannis had entrusted him with a set many years ago. The thought of betraying that trust did not sit easily with Davos but this was the right thing to do. Lord Stark was a good man, perhaps even good enough to one day forgive Stannis for his misdemeanours and fight for him. He was the rightful King after all, Lord Stark had acknowledged that, perhaps with Melisandre gone he would consider raising his banners for Stannis again. He turned the key in the lock then, looking from side to side to make sure that no one was around. The docks were mostly deserted, almost everyone on Dragonstone was down at the beach. The only other people beside his son and his crew had already raised their own anchor and had sailed away from the shore.

He closed the gate to, holding his breath and praying that it wouldn't creak before he padded softly down the stony tunnel that led to the cells. There was not a sound to be heard and Davos imagined that the prison guards were likely in their warm barracks at the top end of the prison. Thankfully Lord Stark was placed in one of the lower cells and Davos could see the glow of his lantern as he approached him almost silently. Quiet as he was the man heard him and turned his head in surprise when he reached the cell. Davos pressed his finger to his lips and Lord Stark nodded his understanding before Davos began examining the keys for the right one. When he found it he slid it into the lock and turned it before he could change his mind. _This is the right thing_, he reminded himself.

He swung open the door then and gestured for Lord Stark to leave, the man did as he bid and stood in the passageway looking at him inquisitively. Still Davos said nothing as he closed the door of the cell and re-locked it. When it was done he began sneaking back down the way he had come, glancing behind him to make sure that Lord Stark was following him. When they reached the gate to the docks Davos opened it carefully and glanced around. Thankfully the area was still deserted and he hurriedly gestured for Lord Stark to come out, closing and locking the gate when he had and unfastening his cloak. He handed the cloak to Lord Stark and the man took it gratefully.

"I imagine I haven't been pardoned," Lord Stark said lowly then as he pulled on the cloak.

"No," Davos grimaced, "but I beg you not to hold this against the King … it's that woman, the one who claims to see things in the flames"

"You think she's hoodwinked him?" Lord Stark frowned and he nodded.

"Aye," he said, "best pull that hood down low, follow me"

"Thank you for this," Lord Stark said gratefully and Davos nodded again, his steps brisk.

"My son is sailing to White Harbour, he will get you there safely but after that you're on your own," Davos said.

"In the North at least," Lord Stark said, "is there any way for me to get word to my family"

"Dale has some ravens aboard, he'll take care of you," Davos promised him.

"Thank you," he said again, his mind spinning.

Dale looked towards his father impatiently when he saw him returned and Davos jerked his head towards Lord Stark which made his son frown. He came forwards then and Ned watched as Davos gripped the young man's arm tightly and spoke to him in urgent, hushed tones. When they broke apart Dale looked at him and bowed his head shortly, the action putting Ned somewhat at ease and causing his heart to beat more normally again.

"Keep that hood up, you will stay in my quarters, no one will know but me – on my honour I will get you safely to White Harbour," Dale promised him.

"If you give me leave to write to my son I can promise that you will be richly rewarded when we dock," Ned vowed in return and the young man nodded his agreement.

* * *

_Abandoned Village, God's Eye Lake_

* * *

"Shove over," Gendry said, forcing himself between Arya and Bran and pulling the loaf of near stale bread he had into thirds.

"Thanks," Bran said.

"Welcome," Gendry returned, "you going to the Wall as well"

"Of course not stupid," Arya said then, tearing at her own portion of bread.

"Sorry," he said, "I was just trying to be friendly like …"

"Don't mind her … she's always like that," Bran told him and he grinned as Arya scowled.

"What's your name?" Gendry asked him.

"Ben," Bran told him, "and she's Alys," he added, nodding to Arya.

"And that man Jory is your father?" Gendry checked.

"Yes," Bran nodded.

"Thought I saw him once with that Lord Stark," Gendry said then.

"No doubt you thought wrong," Arya snapped and he raised his brows.

Before he could comment though there was the sound of approaching hooves and he felt the two children on either side of him stiffen. He looked down from the rafters of the barn then and noticed that Yoren and Jory were sharing an uneasy look, their hands going to rest on the hilt of their swords. Yoren barked at one of the men to check outside and Gendry watched him with narrowed eyes, the man had stolen his bull helm and he was still trying to plot the best way to steal it back.

"Gold Cloaks!"

The two on either side of him seemed to tense up even more and exchange an uneasy glance with one another. Gendry frowned. He wasn't simple, he may not be the cleverest but he was by no stretch the dumbest and he knew damn well that these weren't simple small folk trying to get back to their farm or whatever their story was.

"We should hide," he said then.

"Yes," Arya said then and he was surprised at how quickly she had agreed.

"There's a gap up there," Bran said, looking up towards the roof.

"Let's go," Gendry said and they all got carefully to their feet and balanced along the rafters until they were directly underneath the gap.

Jory glanced up as he pulled out his sword and saw Gendry helping Bran up into the gap, the boy reaching down to help Arya scramble up after him before the two of them helped the smith's boy up. He was glad they were hiding together, he wasn't tasked with taking care of Gendry – the Stark children were his priority – but the boy shared the blood of the late King and he knew Lord Stark wouldn't want any harm to come to them. He looked towards Yoren then and saw that the black brother had his own sword unsheathed and was arming those recruits that he trusted enough to handle a weapon. They weren't exactly organised but Jory hoped that they would be able to do enough to see off the Gold Cloaks. The boy who had spotted them had said there were seven of them. Surely he, the Captain of the Guards, and Yoren, a seasoned man of the Nights Watch would be able to best them with the help of these green boys.

Jory swallowed hard then as the sound of galloping hooves could be heard right outside the barn. He readied his stance and saw Yoren do the same from the corner of his eye. When he glanced behind them he saw the three Yoren had trusted with weapons looking rather determined, one of them was even wearing a helm. He turned back to the front then as he heard the sound of swords unsheathing and in the next instant Gold Cloaks were entering. Jory went for the nearest one at once, the man seeming surprised that they had been ready and waiting for them and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as the man fell dead at his feet. He had no time to compose himself before the next Gold Cloak was upon him but he swung his sword up to block him well enough and they exchanged blows for a long minute, Jory's eyes searching for any hint of weakness.

One of the boys was cut down then and his dying scream had the man he was fighting distracted for a spit second. It was all the time Jory needed to kiss his steel across the man's throat. Blood gushed from his neck as he fell to his knees and slumped the ground with a final spluttered, gurgle. Yoren he could see had killed another two and the boy with the bull helm was finishing off another. There were only two left now and Jory raised his sword to one as the boy in the helm engaged the other. This time the boy was not so lucky and he slumped to the floor with a pitiful moan. Jory knew he would not be getting back up as he clashed his sword hard against his opponent, causing him to slip slightly in the blood of his fallen comrade. He rammed his sword hard into the man's stomach then, his light armour giving way easily to the strong, northern steel. Jory wrenched his sword free then and shoved the man to the ground where he moved no more. Breathing hard he turned to see Yoren finishing off the final man and they caught one another's eyes and managed a grim smile of relief.

"Best hide them," Yoren said.

"Best had," Jory agreed and Yoren barked orders for those who had been told to hide to come out and help conceal the bodies of the Gold Cloaks.

"Something will have to be done about the horses," Yoren said then.

"Take them," Jory suggested, "sell them on in the next inhabited town"

"Aye …" Yoren said.

"Will you continue along the King's Road?" Jory asked then.

"Aye," Yoren said again, "I'm a man of the Night's Watch, my business is official"

"Then this is where we part then," Jory said, glancing up to the rafters and seeing Arya, Bran and Gendry emerging from their hiding place.

"Good luck," Yoren said.

"Thank you," Jory nodded.

"You best get going, take some of this steel with you, the young 'uns should be armed," Yoren urged.

"Aye," Jory said reluctantly.

He stepped away then and went to help Bran and Arya down off the hay stacks, Gendry already having dropped down and gone to reclaim his helm from the dead boy who had stolen it. Jory urged Bran and Arya to gather up their things then before picking up the sword of one of the fallen men, weighing it in his hands and thinking that Bran should just about manage to wield it. He pulled away a couple of sword belts then and tossed them towards the Stark children. Bran pulled his around his middle and fastened it with slightly shaking fingers. Arya seemed more confident in her movement, tying it tightly around her before crossing to the cart and pulling out her own sword, Needle.

"Let's go," Jory jerked his head towards the door then and they walked obediently to him.

"Mister!" Gendry called out then, "Mister could I come too?!"

"You are supposed to be headed to the Wall," Jory told him.

"I never wanted to join no Nights Watch, Tobho made me go but I never wanted to … I'm a smith Mister, perhaps you have use of a smith where you're headed," Gendry implored him.

Jory exchanged a look with Yoren then and the black brother shrugged.

"Perhaps we might have use of a smith," Jory said then and Gendry's face lit up, "get yourself armed with a sword and let's get out of here."

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

Benjen could hear the crunching of footsteps in the snow coming from the thicket of woodland in the shadow of which he and his men had made camp. Whoever was there they were not the stealthiest and Benjen turned from the fire and stood up, turning to face the trees.

"Whoever is there we have a hot fire here if you have some meat to put on it!" he called.

"Is that wise?" one of his men asked.

"If they meant us harm they would have shot a dozen arrows by now," Benjen said.

"Is it wildlings?" another man asked.

"Most like," Benjen nodded and they fell silent as the crunching steps grew closer.

Sure enough, a moment later a group of five wildings emerged from the shadows of the trees and slowly made their way towards the camp. All of them were women, Benjen noted, women of varying ages that he imagined were all somehow related. He vaguely wondered where their men were but stopped. There were many possibilities but it was more than likely that they had perished.

"We got goat," one of the women said then and Benjen nodded.

"We have a fire," he returned and it was her turn to nod.

"Don't often get friendly crows," she said.

"Don't often get friendly wildlings," he told her and she managed a half smile.

He stepped out of the way of the fire then and two of the women knelt and began preparing their meat, the other three hung back looking wary and Benjen sighed before moving to the supply wagon and pouring himself a flagon of ale. Several of his own men were regarding the women warily as well but one or two he noted were raking their eyes over a few of the younger ones with a rather hungry expression on their faces. He frowned then and hoped they would keep their breeches laced, knowing that if they even attempted to take one of the girls by force that they would be castrated in mere seconds. Not that they wouldn't deserve it of course but he needed all the men he could get and he needed them at full strength.

Once the meat was skewered above the fire Benjen moved back towards it and sat with the women who still remained by it. One of them gave him a suspicious look before standing and moving to stand back with the others. The other remained though and it was the one that he had already spoken with.

"What do they call you crow?" she asked him.

"Benjen," he told her, "and you?"

"Menna," she nodded and he returned the gesture, "You're brave lighting this fire"

"How so?" he frowned.

"Fire attracts all sorts," she said darkly.

"I think there are enough of us to ward off an ambush," he said dismissively.

"I ain't talking free folk," she told him and his frown deepened.

"Then what are you taking of?" he asked.

"Walkers," she said simply.

"You believe the tales?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Be fool not to when I've seen what they can do," she said and he shuddered involuntarily.

"Have you seen one?" he asked.

"If I had, I don't think I'd be sat exchanging pleasantries with you," she snorted.

"There are no men in your party," he stated then, "perhaps they have seen the walkers"

"Or perhaps they've gone further north to join Mance Rayder," she said.

"Mance Rayder?" he said darkly and she really did manage a smile this time.

"You know him?" she asked him and he grimaced.

"You could say that," he growled.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa swallowed hard as the doors to the throne room were opened wide to allow her to pass through. The guards she walked between were stony-faced, not giving her any clue whatsoever what kind of reception she was going to be greeted with. She had not seen anyone but her maids for so long and none of them spoke to her, save to ask her if she needed anything. _Yes,_ she always wanted to say, _I need to go home. _She never said that though. She never said a word. Her footsteps echoed around the cavernous space as she approached the Iron Throne where Joffrey was sat with an elaborately jewelled crown on his golden head. She supposed that ordinarily the sight would have made her heart flutter but she did not miss the hard, cold look in his eyes. Any hope that he could be the one to save her from this nightmare died then and she took a breath and curtseyed low before him. There was no one else here save for him, the Queen and a few members of what she could only assume was the King's council and she felt her apprehension grow.

"You asked to see me your Grace," she said as calmly and sweetly as she could manage.

"We did little dove," it was the Queen who answered, "we thought perhaps after some time you might have remembered something about where your father and siblings are"

"I don't know anything your Grace," Sansa replied and the Queen smiled, the action not reaching her eyes that were as cold as her sons.

"Come now … do you really expect us to believe that your father would just abandon you here … that you know nothing?" she said, raising one perfect brow.

"I truly don't your Grace," Sansa said, her eyes wide and fearful.

"I think …" the Queen began.

"That the Lady might remember something with some persuasion," Joffrey finished for her.

Sansa swallowed hard, her mouth and throat completely dry as she caught his eye for a second, his eyes that were now suddenly alive and dancing with what she could only describe as malice. She didn't miss the look of confusion that crossed the Queen's face when Joffrey clicked his fingers and it made her dread what Joffrey had planned. The clank of armoured footsteps could be heard then and Sansa wanted to break down and cry when she saw the owners come into view. Each huge White Cloak had someone clamped roughly in their arms. Her Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole. She looked up at Joffrey again then, her eyes wide and unbelieving as a cruel smirk played about his lips.

"Now," Joffrey said, "where is your traitor father?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "your Grace I don't …" she continued but cut off with a scream of horror as the man holding Septa Mordane ran a blade across her throat. Tears were stinging at her eyes as the blood flowed from her lifeless body, the White Cloak dropping her to the ground as though she were nothing. Tears stung at her eyes and she could hear Jeyne begin to cry as her head spun, her stomach churning horribly as she tried to tear her eyes away from her body.

"Where is your father?!" Joffrey demanded.

"Please!" she begged, "Please your Grace I don't know! I don't know! Please don't!" she pleaded, her eyes on Jeyne as her captor moved his blade to her throat.

"Tell me!" Joffrey roared, standing up from the throne.

"Joff …" she heard the Queen scold in an undertone as Jeyne began to sob relentlessly, Sansa could see her shaking, her eyes wide and begging.

"I cannot tell you what I do not know!" Sansa cried desperately, "Please your Grace! Please don't!"

"Shut her up," he snarled towards the White Cloak.

"No!" Sansa screamed out.

"What is this?!" a commanding voice rang out from behind her then and she could have sank to her knees in relief as the man who held Jeyne stilled his movement.

"What are you doing here?" the Queen asked.

"Stopping your son … although not quite soon enough," the man said, his footsteps coming closer and closer behind Sansa.

"You can't command me," Joffrey sneered, "I am the King"

"And I am your Hand," the man said, walking to stand just in front of Sansa. She knew him now, it was Lord Tyrion.

"What?" the Queen snarled, "Our father is to be Hand"

"Yes," Tyrion agreed, "but he has gone to deal with Stannis and has asked me to take his place … temporarily," he finished smoothly, handing the Queen a scroll of parchment.

Sansa dared to hope then as the Queen flushed furiously on reading the words on the parchment, rolling it back up in a fury and nodding once to Joffrey who flushed an even uglier colour in his own response. Lord Tyrion turned back to look at her then and she tried to calm her racing heart as she looked back at him.

"Go back to your rooms Sansa," he said gently and she glanced warily towards Jeyne. He seemed to notice her line of sight and he turned his attention instead to her and her captor; "let that girl go – now!"

"You have no right!" Joffrey snapped at him.

"I have every right to stop you behaving like a spoiled child!" he snapped right back, "You are supposed to be the King and yet you insist on acting like a toddler having a tantrum … you do not threaten innocent people and you do not murder innocent people. Your name is being spoken of in ill terms as it is – do you really think this is going to endear you to your subjects?"

"Let it go Joff," the Queen murmured then and he turned almost purple with rage before stamping down from the Iron Throne and retreating from the throne room. Sansa breathed a sigh of relief then as the man holding Jeyne finally lowered his blade and loosened his hold on her. For now at least she knew it was over.

* * *

**A/N: **So ... I said there was a lot going on ... thoughts?

:)


	15. Desperate Measures

**A/N:** New chapter guys! Hope you enjoy it. As ever, your comments would be very much appreciated.

**Guest:** Yes, Sansa did make a rather idiotic decision but she's very naive and assumed her handsome Prince was the most important thing and the best thing for her. She's certainly paying for it now!

Right, on with the chapter!

:)

* * *

**Desperate Measures**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"What does he say of the girls and Bran?" Catelyn asks fearfully.

"He says he tasked Jory with getting them away from the Capitol," Robb told her.

"What now lad?" Lord Karstark asked then – he had been the first of the Lords to arrive and had it not been for the Mormont's being delayed they would have already marched before they had received Ned's word that he was sailing to White Harbour.

"I'll send word to Lord Manderly," Robb said, "and I will send some of my own men down to the coast to meet him when the ship docks"

"If we can't back the Lannister's and we can't back Stannis what is the North to do?" the Greatjon asked gruffly then.

"Wait for its warden to return," Robb said firmly.

"Aye," Lord Karstark agreed as the Greatjon muttered darkly under his breath.

"Unless you have a suggestion Lord Umber?" Robb demanded, the old man had been dismissive of him at best and damn right rude at worst so far.

"We need to pick a side in this war before someone picks it for us," he stated.

"And do you have a preferred side?" Robb persisted, not moving his eyes from the Greatjon.

"The winning one," he said and Robb allowed a wry smile.

"We wait for my father, I will send men out," he said with finality.

"The Flint's will be waiting," Lord Karstark reminded him.

"Aye," Robb nodded, "I will send word to them that we'll not be marching but to keep ready – we don't yet know what my father will have planned"

"Aye," he nodded his own agreement.

"Is that everything?" Robb asked then and the pair of them bowed their heads to him.

Lord Karstark exchanged a fond enough goodbye with him but the Greatjon said nothing before he too stamped from the council chambers and Robb let out a long sigh when the door closed behind him. He wasn't stupid, he knew why the Greatjon was so dismissive of him – he thought him green and while Robb could admit that he had no experience of battle it did not mean that he was a fool. Waiting for his father, getting his father safely back to Winterfell, was the right thing to do – the only thing to do. Marching blindly south would do them no good until they knew exactly who they would be fighting for and against when they got there. He sat heavily then and picked up a quill, dipping it in the inkwell before scratching a letter to Wyman Manderly.

"What about the girls and Bran?" his mother asked then making him jump, he had forgotten that she had been in the room.

"Father says they're with Jory," he said, turning his attention back to his letter.

"Why have we had no word of them?" she persisted and he sighed, setting the quill aside and standing up again.

"How do you expect them to find writing materials in the wilds?" he asked her.

"The wilds?!" she repeated with wide eyes.

"You don't really think they'd risk the King's Road? There will be Lannister men scouring the land for them," he said.

"What if they've caught up with them?! What if they're …" she choked on the word.

"Don't you dare," Robb told her firmly, stepping forward and grabbing her upper arms, "listen to me, they are safe with Jory! He will get them home – the Lannister's have troubles enough with Stannis. If Tywin truly is marching on Dragonstone then I doubt finding a group of children will be his main priority"

"They're not children to them though are they?" his mother whispered, "They are hostages"

"Only if they find them," Robb said firmly, "and we would know if they had."

* * *

Theon was breathless as Adele leant back in to kiss him but he managed to kiss her back, his lips as always moving so perfectly with hers. They had reached some kind of compromise it seemed – she would not give up her honour to him but she was more than happy to pleasure him with her skilled hands and her delicious mouth. In turn she was also more than willing to let him push her to the limits with his tongue and his fingers. He still longed to be inside her, dreaming of how perfect she would feel, but for now he would take this situation gladly. She was so good at pleasing him that he could just about live with not having her entirely. Adele pulled back then and smiled that sweet smile at him that he utterly adored, he watched her so often that he knew she only bestowed that smile on him. Other people were sent other smiles, no one else got to see this one that only he saw and he felt immense satisfaction with that knowledge.

"We should go back," she said and he smiled at the sound of regret in her voice.

"They'll not be missing us yet, there is far too much occupying them," he returned.

"Exactly," she said, "there is so much uproar, the last thing you should be doing is shirking your responsibilities."

Theon sighed then. She was right – unfortunately. With the banners arriving and a makeshift camp set up outside the walls of Winterfell for all the fighting men the guards had become rather stretched. With Jory gone there was no one to assume any kind of order and so Theon had volunteered his own services on a whim. Consequently he had somehow become the acting Captain seeing as Adele's father, who had previously been doing the duty, had been tasked by Robb to see to the security of the campsite. Theon therefore was in charge of protecting those within the walls and had so far enjoyed the work – although not so much when it meant he missed out on seeing Adele. She would find him sometimes when he was on his night time patrol and give him something that would leave his mind spinning and put him in a good mood for the rest of his shift.

If he was honest with himself he wasn't exactly sure how he would get through the days without her anymore. If he was honest with himself he would probably admit that he was falling for her and falling hard – harder than he had ever imagined falling for anyone. That was _if _he was honest with himself though and Theon was in no way ready to confront any of those feelings.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa raised her hand to her lip, feeling the moist blood on her fingertip and tasting it in her mouth as the pain throbbed dully. It was Ser Meryn again, it was usually him; he seemed to actually enjoy taking orders from Joffrey to strike her. He seemed to take pleasure in beating a girl and Sansa hoped that he did not have a wife. Her father had always told her that true men did not harm women, that true men defended a woman's honour and shielded her from harm. She looked up then, refusing to let the tears that stung her eyes fall and gazed unflinchingly at Ser Meryn and the _King. _They were no men, she decided. Joffrey was not even man enough to strike her himself. The thought made her want to laugh for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps she had gone mad. Perhaps this was her punishment for disobeying her father.

* * *

Cersei watched Joffrey as they dined together, his fine golden crown set so perfectly on his golden head. Her beautiful lion cub. His temper had been flaring lately but she was not worried – King's needed to have a firm hand and Joffrey was certainly proving that he had that.

"My uncle will be defeated won't her?" he asked her then.

"Of course," she replied smoothly, "your grandfather will see to that"

"I will have my uncle's head for the poisonous lies he has been spreading about you mother … perhaps I shall have his liars tongue out first …" he vowed.

"A just punishment my sweet," she smiled at him.

"Because they are lies aren't they mother?" he continued and she stared evenly at him.

"What else?" she said.

"I would see to it that every threat to my throne is eliminated," he stated then.

"There is no threat to your throne," she lied, "who could ever usurp you?"

"My uncles," he snapped, "those Targaryen children father should have dealt with years ago!"

"Yes he should have," she agreed with her son on that one.

"It seems I will have to make up for his failure," Joffrey said.

"What were you thinking my sweet?" she asked him.

"Someone could be sent to the mad King's son …" he mused, "I would pay them handsomely, the same could be done to the bitch in the North"

"Perhaps flames would be a fitting end to the girl," Cersei suggested lightly and her son's eyes lit up in delight at her words.

* * *

_Highgarden _

* * *

Margaery exchanged a look with her grandmother as they sat at the high table before she let her eyes take in her new husband at her side. The time was fast approaching. The time for the bedding. As nervous as she was she could not help but worry more that her husband would not be able. She wasn't stupid – everyone knew the truth of Renly and Loras, it was an open secret and one that would hopefully help her tonight. Their marriage had to be consummated. She had to get pregnant. With a child inside her Renly would have even more support gathered around him. People would overlook the fact that Stannis was older because Stannis was disliked and only had a daughter. She would give Renly a son and maybe then she would be able to capture his attention away from her brother. First though they would have to get through the bedding. She looked to her grandmother then and she nodded her head slightly to her. At the action Margaery moved her hand to settle on her husbands, his eyes turning to find hers at her touch.

"Shall we retire?" she asked him quietly and she felt him stiffen.

"Of course my love," he replied and she smiled slightly.

They rose up in unison then and walked from the hall. The traditional bedding ceremony had been banned – her father had made up some lie about not wanting his daughter humiliated and remembering that made her smile wryly. Enduring the bedding ceremony would doubtless have been far less humiliating than what her wedding night was like to be. Once inside their chambers Renly sent her an uneasy look and she tried to smile reassuringly at him.

"I don't know if this will work," he told her honestly.

"It has to," she said and he nodded his agreement.

"Would you like some wine while we wait?" he asked her.

"Please," she said, loosening the ties of her gown.

Renly handed her a glass and raised his own so they could clink them together before they both took a long, grateful sip. He set the glass down then and loosened his doublet, shrugging out of it before unlacing his shirt. Margaery watched him contemplatively as she sipped slowly on her own wine. He sat on the edge of the bed then and tugged off his boots and she set down her own wine.

"Should I?" she asked him, gesturing to her own clothing.

"It might be easier if we get used to one another," he replied and she nodded.

She could feel his eyes on her as she unthread the ties of her dress, the bodice loosening to the point that the heavy material just fell to the floor. His eyes were still on her as she moved to unlace her shift, kicking her dainty silk slippers off her feet and taking a few steps closer. Renly swallowed hard as she came to a halt just in front of him. He knew most men would be ripping that shift away from her, roaming their hands over every inch of her naked flesh before triumphantly taking her maidenhead. He was no fool, he knew Margaery was a woman of great beauty and that men would doubtless kill to take his place. Renly just wanted her brother though and he was ashamed of himself for it. Loras had promised to come, to help them with the necessity but there was no way of knowing how long he would be kept away at the feast. Long enough for Margaery to be naked before him it seemed as her shift dropped to the floor. He let his eyes wander her body out of sheer curiosity more than anything and wondered if he could be brave enough to do this himself.

"Come and join me," he said then and she looked vaguely surprised.

"As you wish," she said as he slid back onto the bed, her own body coming to lay next to him.

"This is all new for me," he confessed.

"For me too," she smiled slightly, turning her head to look at him and seeing him gazing back.

"It would be easier for you if he didn't come," he stated then and she nodded slowly.

"But … if it's what you need …" she whispered.

"Perhaps we can try without him …" he tailed off and she nodded again.

At her action he moved his body above hers, her legs parting to he could press his body between them, his hands coming to his laces where he felt no stirring whatsoever. Margaery let her hands wander down his arms to find his own hands, the one at his laces stilling slightly as she felt his lack of desire. She took a deep breath then and remembered what her grandmother had told her about pleasing a man. It was an instinctual thing, she had said, not something that they could control – sometimes they just needed a little encouragement to begin with.

"Close your eyes," she whispered and Renly did as he was told. She let her fingers trace along his length then but still there was no stirring. "Forget it's me," she said then as she let her hands wrap around his length. Her hand was soft around him and Renly could feel his body beginning to respond, his length becoming increasingly hard as she continued on. He let her carry on up to the point that he thought he would explode before he moved his own hand to still her movements. His body was screaming for release now and he opened his eyes. Looking at her wasn't helping, he could see Loras in her eyes and so he backed away from her slightly, his hands coming to her hips. "Turn over," he coaxed her, "I can't if you're …" he tailed off and she understood, her body responding to his hands as she rolled herself onto her stomach.

He let his hands come to her hips again then, raising them slightly as he again settled between her legs. Margaery clenched her hands tightly in the pillows then as she felt his hardness pressed up against her. She knew this would hurt but it would just be this first time. He had to do this, he had to spend himself inside her so she would have a chance of getting with child. Perhaps if he managed it this time it would come more easily next time, perhaps he would slowly come around to the fact that she was his wife and his future. Perhaps he would learn to enjoy being in her bed, being with her. Pain interrupted those wishful thoughts then and she cried out, burying her head in the pillow to stifle the sound and stifle her tears.

Renly faltered then but she knew she couldn't let him. He had to finish and so ignoring her pain she rocked her hips back and forth onto his length, feeling the pain coursing through her but pushing it to the back of her mind. He gripped her hips harder then and quickened his pace. Each hard thrust hurt more than the last but Margaery just kept her face buried in the pillow and willed herself to stay strong and not cry out again. Renly wasn't cruel. He wasn't doing this because he wanted to hurt her, he was doing it because it was the only way he could force himself to be with her sexually. She would endure it. She had to endure it until he put a child inside her. After that he could go back to her brother if he must but until then it was her bed he had to share and she would just have to keep her mouth shut and do whatever was necessary to make sure he always spent himself.

He knew he was probably hurting her as he continued but if he slowed for a moment he might suddenly realise exactly what he was doing. She felt good around him, that he couldn't deny, but she was still a woman and this still seemed ever so wrong to him. He felt guilty then, doubtless she was gaining little pleasure from this either. At least he would peak, would gain his satisfaction. She would be left in pain and stripped of her innocence. It was what they had agreed to though, what both of them had agreed with one another and before the Septon and the Gods. They had to be as man and wife until there was a child in her. He trust again then. Once. Twice more and then he was done, a groan of relief leaving him as he spilled deep inside her, his hands clenching around her hips.

As his breathing returned to normal he pulled himself out of her, her body slumping against the pillows. He saw the blood on himself then and the guilt rose higher, his hands coming again to her hips, this time rolling her onto her back. She didn't have the strength to fight him and so she flopped back over to see him gazing at her in concern. His eyes found the tears that had tracked her face before they wandered to the blood between her thighs. She felt suddenly embarrassed under his gaze then and she shifted to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry," he managed to get out then but she shook her head.

"We did what we had to … there is only blood and pain the first time, it will be worth it all for a Prince," she told him.

"Margaery …" he started but she was up and off the bed, her steps staggered as she made her way towards the washroom.

"I'll just clean myself up," she said, before she slipped inside and closed the door firmly behind her.

Renly was left alone and confused on the bed then, his eyes again going to the blood on himself and the blood on the sheet. He got himself up then, cleaning himself off before he grabbed the sheet and balled it up, throwing it with all his frustration at the door of the chambers. He ought to be glad he had bed his wife. He ought to be glad he had managed it without forcing her to endure the presence of her own brother in their bedchamber. He ought to be glad. He didn't feel glad though.

* * *

_Pentos_

* * *

Viserys was grinning wildly, an almost hungry look in his eyes as Illyrio told him of the events that had been unfolding across the Narrow Sea. Westeros seemed to be on the brink of war and Illyrio himself was surprised at how quickly things seemed to be unravelling for the Lannister's. New players were emerging every day and it would only be a matter of time before he sent his own challenger. Not quite yet though, the time wasn't quite right as Varys had told him. Best wait a while longer for some of the others to eliminate one another, then swoop in and take the final steps. He wondered who would fair best in the battle that was looming up between Stannis Baratheon and Tywin Lannister. The winner would no doubt have to contend with Renly Baratheon who had married into house Tyrell. It was a bold move but a good one – everyone knew Stannis was no popular figure, likely most would see Renly as a good alternative if they turned away from the Lannister's.

All that was rather intriguing but Illyrio was more interested in the whereabouts of Ned Stark; Varys had informed him that he had taken a boat to Dragonstone and had not been heard of since. What was most interesting was that the boat's captain had assured Varys that Stark had arrived safely and to heighten the intrigue the North had not yet made a move to march south. Word had trickled down that Ned Stark's eldest son had called the banners but had not made any move from Winterfell. The fact that they were not marching immediately to aid Stannis, as Varys had been certain they would, was definitely something to ponder. If the North had not sworn allegiance to any of the claimants then perhaps it was time another was introduced. He thought of Daenerys then, still a ward of Winterfell and by all accounts well loved by the Stark's. Could they perhaps be thinking of her? Surely not. But then … the eldest son … perhaps a Stark as King would be very appealing to the North. Before Illyrio could ponder anymore ifs and buts Viserys finally found his voice.

"This is all very well, let them all murder one another and leave the way clear for me to claim _my _throne. But there is one thing troubling me … where is my sweet sister in all of this and why has she not sent me word? The ungrateful whelp has not even sent word to thank me for my generous gift," he whinged and Illyrio tried not to roll his eyes.

"You did not tell her the gift was from you," he reasoned.

"If she is too stupid to work out who sent her it then she is of no use to me at all!" Viserys snapped.

"She is of invaluable use, her influence with the Stark family will …" he began.

"Oh enough about these Stark's! I notice that they have not marched with their banners – are they craven?! Will they stay frozen up in their cold North and hide from the war!?" Viserys burst out.

"If you believe that then you truly have no knowledge of the Stark's or their banners," Illyrio said coolly and Viserys stared at him.

"What did you say to me?" he whispered in a dangerously low tone.

"I would merely suggest that your Grace remember that you cannot win this Iron Throne by yourself, you need an army, and as the North has not yet declared its intention it would be rash indeed to discount them as potential allies," Illyrio said calmly.

"Allies," Viserys snorted, "Northmen are savages, my father knew that … he knew how to deal with them"

"Your father burned Rickard Stark in his armour and had his eldest son strangle himself trying to reach his own sword … your father's actions brought about a rebellion. Ned Stark raised the North for Robert Baratheon and it was him who has sat the Iron Throne for eighteen years … I would not consider that _dealing_ with them," Illyrio stated and Viserys flushed.

"You dare speak to me like that?! I am your King!" he raged.

"One day you may be _a _King, one day you may take _your _Iron Throne, but Essos is not ruled from the Iron Throne so you are not, and will never be _my _King," Illyrio told him.

Viserys almost flushed purple then and for a moment Illyrio thought that he may actually explode with rage. As it was the tempestuous young man contented himself with striding from the room and slamming the door so hard behind him that the portraits on the wall shook. Illyrio sighed heavily then. It was not the first time that he had thought that taking Viserys in had been a mistake. When he was younger he had thought he would be able to mould the boy, shape him into something resembling a man – a sane man preferably, but as the years went on his mad streak only grew and now Illyrio was at a loss of what to do with him. He couldn't support him as any kind of King that was for sure, truly he had never had any intention to do such a thing but now he wasn't even sure if he could pretend to back the man. No. Something had to be done about him and the sooner it was and he was out the way, the sooner Illyrio could move forward with his true plans.

* * *

**A/N: **A few changes in there! Hope you all enjoyed, I'll hopefully have another up at the end of the week.

:)


	16. Decisions

**A/N:** New chapter guys, hope you enjoy it - your thoughts as always would be much appreciated!

**Fear:** Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it!

**Guest:** Never fear, it is not my intention to go there with that pairing!

:)

* * *

**Decisions **

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

"The bloody fool! What is he thinking?!" Stannis fumed.

"What is it my King?" Melisandre asked him silkily.

"Renly … the damn fool," he spat out.

"What is it?" Selyse asked, her brow furrowing at her usual calm and collected husband.

"He has declared himself King … over me … ME!" he slammed his fists against the table.

"What will you do?" his wife asked him.

"If I may …" Melisandre began.

"No you may not," he snapped at her, "if you had not convinced me I needed that Targaryen girl then I would have the North with me by now and Renly would not be so stupid! As it is he has married Margaery Tyrell and has the might of Highgarden on his side!"

"Then what will you do?!" Selyse asked desperately.

"If he wants to ride around the south hosting tourneys and showing off his wife then that means Storm's End is there for the taking," he said.

"But … isn't Tywin Lannister marching this way?" his wife frowned.

"Can Tywin Lannister walk on water?!" he shot back.

"He's no fool!" she returned heatedly.

"Your Grace … you cannot mean to leave your seat exposed without you?" Melisandre said softly.

"Of course I don't! Stick to your flames woman you know nothing of war! Dragonstone will be left protected by enough of the fleet," Stannis said dismissively.

"But who will lead them?" Melisandre frowned at him, already knowing what he would say.

"Davos," he said.

"But you imprisoned him … it was him who turned Lord Stark loose," it was Selyse who voiced it.

"And I can pardon him just as easily, Davos will protect Dragonstone with his life if need be," he snarled.

"When will you leave?" Selyse asked then.

"On the morrow," he said curtly.

"And Shireen and I?" she persisted.

"Will stay here," he said firmly and she nodded obediently.

"Will you have need of me your Grace?" Melisandre asked him, her eyes meeting his and he saw her hidden meaning.

"I may well have need for you if Renly refuses to see sense," he said grimly.

* * *

_White Harbour_

* * *

"Land on the horizon!"

"Land!"

The shouts made Ned almost cry in relief as he heard them echoing down to the captains quarters where he had been confined for the duration of the journey. He knew why of course, it would do no good for anyone but Dale to know that they had and escaped convict on board. Still, the rocking motion of the boat and the drunken shouts of the men had meant he got little sleep. When he did sleep he dreamt and when he dreamt he woke because his dreams were never good. He hoped Robb had received his letter, if he had then there should be men waiting for him then the ship docked which from the pounding sound of movement on deck, should not be long now. He was desperate to have his feet back on dry land and even more desperate to get home to Winterfell. No doubt Lord Manderly would host him for as long as was necessary but Ned just wanted to get on a horse and ride. He wanted Cat in his arms, he wanted to see his children safe and secure. They should have arrived with Jory by now and he prayed to the Gods that their journey had gone smoothly. A knock interrupted him then and a moment later Dale let himself in.

"We'll be docking shortly my Lord," he told him.

"Thank you," Ned said gratefully.

"I'll come and fetch you once my men are unloading, no doubt your banners will be waiting," he said.

"No doubt … so long as Robb got my message," Ned said.

"I'll not be long my Lord," Dale bowed shortly then before taking his leave.

Ned could hear the creaking of sails and the clanking of chains after another few minutes and the raised shouts of the men. He could hear the gulls circling overhead and he knew that they must be about to dock. He was itching to get off this boat, itching to see the Stark banners waiting and itching to get his feet back on northern soil. The rocking motion lessened the more time passed and eventually Ned was almost certain that they had docked, now all he had to do was wait for Dale to come back and get him onto solid ground again. It wasn't long before he returned but to Ned it felt like a lifetime as he sat there with his leg nervously jumping up and down. He jumped to his feet when Dale opened the door, pulling up the hood of the cloak Davos had given him automatically.

"Come now, there are wolf banners waiting for you," Dale smiled at him.

"Thank the Gods," Ned muttered, "and thank you and your father"

"He did what he thought was right and I trust his judgement," Dale returned and Ned nodded.

"I will see to it you get your reward," he said as they made their way from the captains quarters.

It felt so good to breathe fresh air again and Ned gulped it down greedily, his eyes squinting slightly in the bright afternoon sunshine. Dale's men were hard at work around him and none of them paid him any mind as Dale led him from the boat; he could indeed see the direwolf banners waving on the docks and his heart was fit to burst. Solid ground under his feet now as he stepped off the gangway and began making his way towards the group of men Robb had sent for him. He recognised some of them now, others he didn't but he knew they would have been sent by his banners. Knowing Robb had called the banners left him with a lot of thinking to do. Before the events at Dragonstone his plan had been simple – call the banners and fight for Stannis. Now Stannis had revealed a side that Ned could not follow, even if he was the rightful heir to the throne. His options now were limited but one thing he did know was that he would protect his own borders, the North had always been his priority and that was not going to change now.

"Lord Stark," Thom bowed to him.

"It's good to see a friendly face again," Ned said, gratefully gripping his hand for a moment.

"Do we ride straight for Winterfell?" he asked.

"Aye," Ned said, "the sooner I get back the better"

"Right you are my Lord," Thom bowed shortly, reaching back to pull on the reins of a horse and hand them to Ned.

"Do you have what I requested from my son, this man's reward?" Ned asked then.

"Aye my Lord," Gerron stepped forward then and handed him a full pouch of coin.

"Thank you," Ned nodded before turning to Dale, "your reward"

"Thank you my Lord," Dale bowed shortly, taking the pouch in his hands.

"Safe travels my friend," Ned smiled.

"The same to you," he returned, bowing once more and offering a smile before he made his way back to his men and his boat.

"Now then," Ned said, pulling himself up on the horse, "to Winterfell."

* * *

_Ferry Crossing, Red Fork River_

* * *

Jory seemed to hold his breath as they watched the group of around ten men circling the inn, shouting things at the keep that he could barely make out over the wind. He knew they were Lannister men, he could only hope that they would soon ride off so they could emerge from their spot in the undergrowth and get themselves on the ferry across the river. If they made it across here they could continue on up along the coat until they came upon Flint's Finger. The Flint's were bannermen to the North and they would be safe there and able to get word to Winterfell that they were all safe and well. Jory kept his eyes on the Lannister party as he thought that; they still had a long, long way to go before they reached their goal and he would bet anything that the journey would not be an easy one. He wondered if Lord Stark had made it back yet and if he was worried. No doubt he would be. Jory hoped that they knew Sansa was still at the Capitol and that they would have found some way to have her sent home by now. If he was being honest with himself though he imagined that Sansa would still be stuck there. That she was a most valuable hostage to the Lannister's. Gods he hoped Lord Stark would forgive him, that he and Lady Stark could understand that he had precious little choice. If he had not gone when he did then three of their children could still be stuck there.

"Do you think it will be safe to cross here after those Lannister's have gone?" Bran asked in a whisper.

"Perhaps we should try somewhere else?" Gendry suggested.

"We have to cross that river," Jory told them quietly, "we need to go further north; if we go any further west we may as well give ourselves up"

"Why don't we ferry ourselves across?" Arya frowned at him.

"We'll pay the boatman," Jory told her.

"What if he gives us up?" Bran asked fearfully.

"The Lannister's would expect you to have a bigger guard, I'm just a poor farmer returning home with my three children," Jory said.

"You two just keep your mouths shut," Gendry said, "you sound all noble like"

"Do not," Arya said defiantly.

"Hush now," Jory said with finality as the Lannister men finally galloped away in the opposite direction; "we'll wait here a while longer then approach them at dusk"

"Will we camp when we get to the other side?" Bran asked.

"When we find a sheltered spot out of the way," he answered and they lapsed into silence again.

Jory made them wait over an hour before he let them emerge from the undergrowth and amble slowly towards the inn. The boatman was sat on the porch with a hot meal in front of him and Arya's stomach growled angrily as the smell of it wafted towards them. She heard Gendry snort slightly and she narrowed her eyes at him as they followed Jory towards him.

"Can you get us across tonight?" Jory asked.

"Getting dark," the man said as he took a deep draught from his flagon.

"We'll pay an extra stag, my sister is expecting us in the village there," Jory persuaded.

"An extra stag," the man squinted at him and Jory kept his expression as even as he could manage, "alright then … for an extra stag"

Jory tried not to look too relieved as the man heaved himself up and began ambling towards the small ferry that would get them across the river. When they reached the banks he ushered the children on first and then Jory stepped on before he himself got on board and began uncoupling them from the mooring post. He tied the ropes around the one which was suspended across the river then before he began hauling them across. The water flowed gently here and they made slow but steady progress, the bank soon lost from their sight as the sun sank down behind the horizon.

"Had some gold cloaks about earlier," the man commented.

"Oh?" Jory said, trying not to sound too interested as his heart pounded in his chest.

"Looking for some lost children," he said and Gendry saw his eyes sweep them and tried to catch Jory's eye as he sat with his back to the boatman.

"Well I hope they find them soon," Jory said.

"Reckon there'd be quite a reward for finding them," he said.

"No doubt," Jory muttered.

"Enough that a man could give up ferrying passengers for a living," he continued.

"Jory!" Gendry called out then, just in time for him to turn and go for his sword as the boatman pulled his own on him.

The call wasn't quite quick enough though, Jory had barely unsheathed his sword when the boatman slashed his against his arm. Arya was up and screaming then as the boat rocked unstably without the steady hands on the ropes. Gendry shoved her back as she went for her own sword and unsheathed his just as Jory just about managed to parry another blow. He went for the boatman then as he raised his sword again, sticking his own blade into the man's ribs, shoving him hard as he cried out so he toppled into the dark waters with a sickening splash.

"Jory are you alright?" Arya was by his side then as Gendry stood frozen in horror above him with his sword dripping red.

"I'm fine … you alright lad?" he asked Gendry who was utterly pale in the moonlight.

"I think so," Gendry answered.

"You never killed a man before?" Jory said gently then, wincing as Arya pulled at his tunic.

"No," Gendry whispered.

"We need to keep going across the river," Jory said.

"What then?" Bran asked as he reached up to take hold of the ropes.

"Then we'll find somewhere to camp," he said.

"And fix up your arm," Arya added.

"It'll likely just need a quick bandage," he said reassuringly.

"We'll see," she said darkly as Gendry seemed to snap out of his daze and move to help Bran haul them the rest of the way across.

Thankfully there was no one waiting on the other side for them. Gendry had been paranoid the rest of the way across that someone would have heard the boatman's dying scream and come to investigate what had happened. The village up ahead seemed silent and peaceful though with a small thicket of trees to the west that they would be able to find shelter in and get a fire going. Jory was holding his arm gingerly as he stepped off the boat, Arya and Bran following on and Gendry bringing up the rear.

"Should I tether it?" he asked, gesturing to the small ferry.

"Let it loose," Jory said, "best folk think he drowned"

"As you say," Gendry said, tossing the ropes into the river and watching as the current slowly began to take the boat downstream.

When Gendry turned back he saw that the other three were already heading towards the treeline and he picked up his pace to catch up to them just as they stepped into the gloom of the woodland. They didn't need to walk long before they found a sheltered clearing that they could see from scorch marks on the ground that others had used previously. Arya set about rummaging for their canvas sheets then, insisting that Jory sit and do nothing while Bran and Gendry collected wood for the fire. When it was roaring she left them in charge of tying up their shelters and went to tend to Jory's wound. Thankfully he was right and it wasn't too deep and had hopefully not got any dirt in it. She would clean it just in case though and make sure it was bandaged tightly. It would do no good to risk not doing a good job, especially when it was a man's sword arm.

"What do you think Maester?" Jory joked as she cleansed it, "Will I live?"

"I don't think you'll lose your arm," Arya said with a grin.

"Oh good," Jory smiled.

"Do you want to rest up a few days?" she asked him then.

"No, we keep moving come first light – go on, get to sleep," he urged her.

"I'll take first watch," Gendry offered.

"Wake me when you get tired lad," Jory said and he nodded.

Jory didn't fall asleep at once, he watched as Bran and Arya shifted about to find a comfortable piece of ground and finally closed their eyes. His arm was throbbing slightly and he moved his eyes to Gendry who still looked pale in the light of the fire and he knew the boy must have mixed feelings about his first kill. He had felt the same way the first time he had taken a man's life.

"How old are you lad?" he asked him.

"Sixteen," Gendry replied.

"I know it's tough, knowing you have blood on your hands … but it was him or us," Jory told him.

"I know that," he nodded, "I just never thought I'd be one to kill … I'm just a smith"

"I was just a boy when rebellion came knocking," Jory said.

"Does it get easier?" Gendry asked.

"Aye," he nodded, "but you'll never forget your first kill … at least you did it for good"

"I couldn't let him kill you," Gendry turned to look at him then.

"I'm glad," Jory smiled slightly, "and thank you … if there is ever anything I can reward you with in return you just have to name it"

"That's too kind of you," he said.

"Nonsense," Jory insisted, "you saved my life; thanks to you I might actually make it back to my wife and children"

"Do you think we will make it back?" Gendry asked him then.

"Now we're across the river we don't need to bother people anymore," Jory said, "with a bit of luck I think we have every chance."

* * *

_Storm's End_

* * *

Stannis watched with a grim expression on his face as his brother and his small party approached. It was late afternoon and Stannis was quietly impressed with the size of Renly's army but he would never say that to his face. It didn't matter how big his army was anyway, Stannis' own army was laying siege to Storm's End and if Renly refused to fall into line then he would not be getting his seat back. His seat that he had little or no claim to in the first place as far as Stannis was concerned. Storm's End was the Baratheon seat and should always have been given over to him as the second son when Robert had taken the Iron Throne. In typical Robert style he had overlooked him in favour of their fun-loving little brother and 'gifted' Stannis with Dragonstone. Stannis didn't see it as a gift though, although ironically it might just help him stay out of the reach of Tywin Lannister. Renly was before him now and he looked sideways at Melisandre as his brother grinned jovially at him. Gods the boy was irritatingly happy, even when his lands were overrun.

"Good afternoon brother," Renly said brightly, "nice of you to come and visit … it's a shame I wasn't at home but you seem to have made yourself comfortable"

"This isn't a game Renly," Stannis told him.

"Isn't it?" he raised his brows, "Come now … just give it back"

"I will give it back when you relinquish this ridiculous claim to the throne," Stannis said.

"Ridiculous?" Renly repeated, "I think you'll find I have far more support … the people want me Stannis, best give them what they want"

"I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne!" Stannis spat at him.

"Support me brother … it's what the people want; I will make you my Hand," Renly said.

"Your Hand?!" Stannis repeated incredulously.

"Yes … just think about it … I am the face the people adore but you make all the decisions, we rule together," Renly persuaded him.

"I am the elder son," Stannis deadpanned.

"Just think about it … we can treat again in the morning," Renly said before he turned and walked back towards where his encampment was setting up leaving Stannis furious.

Renly felt immensely satisfied with himself as he walked away, seeing Stannis had given him great insight into who exactly had rallied for his brother. He didn't think that Stannis would seriously consider his offer of being his Hand but Renly was confident that if it came to a fight that he had more than enough men to crush him. Killing his brother wasn't his intention but if he could send him back to Dragonstone with his tail between his legs then all the better. He turned to those walking with him then with the grin back on his face.

"Did you notice?" he asked them and both Loras and Mace Tyrell frowned slightly.

"No sign of any wolf banners," it was Margaery who answered and he turned to her in surprise.

"Exactly," he said, "and no sign of Ned Stark … no doubt my brother has managed to turn his only certain ally against him"

"If he won't support Stannis then perhaps he will support you as the only remaining Baratheon?" Margaery suggested then.

"Yes my love," Renly bestowed an affectionate smile on her, "I think you could be right."

Loras watched the exchange between them and tried not to feel the stab of bitterness in his heart as they continued to chatter away lightly as they returned to camp. Renly had been coming to him less and less and when he did he always smelled like his sister and it made Loras feel sick. He knew that Renly had to bed Margaery to put a child in her but something was telling him that that wasn't the only reason he was doing it. Something told him that part of Renly enjoyed it and it made the bitterness twist like a knife. He loved Renly and he loved his sister. He should be happy they were managing to get on in their marriage but Renly had promised him that it would change nothing between them. Evidently he had lied.

* * *

Stannis paced, thinking hard. He couldn't agree to what Renly was suggesting – it was preposterous. But if he didn't agree it would come to a fight, his brother would not take him besieging Storm's End lightly and he would fight to reclaim it. If it did come to a fight then there was a very real possibility that Stannis would lose. He may have the keep but he didn't have the men. Even if by some miracle he did win then his forces would be decimated and his chance to take the throne all but lost to him. He turned to look at Melisandre then and he knew that there was only one thing for it. She had promised him results and now it was high time that she proved herself to him. If she succeeded in this he would never question her again.

"I need Renly dealt with," he stated.

"Dealt with?" she repeated.

"The only way of getting rid of the threat without a fight is if he dies before one can break out," he told her and she nodded slowly; "we are supposed to treat in the morning … I will refuse him then and he will no doubt go and ready himself for battle … I want you to make sure that he never walks back out onto the field"

"You are certain about this your Grace?" she asked.

"It's the only way … the throne is mine, if only Renly would see sense," he shook his head.

"I will need something from you, to form the assassin," she said.

"Form the assassin?" he repeated.

"I can conjure up a shadow who cannot be stopped," she told him.

"How?" he asked her, his brows knitting together.

"I need your seed your Grace," she practically purred at him, stepping forwards and unlacing her gown.

He had no words then as she let her dress drop to the floor, her hands now on his doublet, tugging at the ties as she encouraged him back towards the bed. Really he should stop her. This wasn't him. He had always sworn to himself that he would be nothing like Robert, that he would not let his wife suffer the humiliation. He might not be enamoured with Selyse but he was faithful to her. _Until now, _he thought to himself as Melisandre shoved him down and pulled herself astride him. He was ashamed of how painfully hard he was as she began unlacing his breeches. Surely this wasn't the same as bedding some whore? He was doing this because he had to, because it was necessary. It would just be this once, surely that wouldn't matter? _Whatever it takes, _he told himself as they joined together as one.

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts would be awesome! Expect a new chapter early next week.

:)


	17. Rising Stakes

**A/N: **New chapter and things are getting serious! Hope you all enjoy!

**Guest:** You know Tywin, the man could probably delude himself into thinking he could walk on water ;) Aww, Gendry's not that bad is he? Personal favourite of mine lol. This chapter should bring you all the Stannis/Renly and Viserys news you need!

Thoughts would be much appreciated you lovely lot!

:)

* * *

**Rising Stakes **

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

"Loral?" Dany called through the open door, her brows knitting together when she heard muffled sobs coming from inside the house.

"Just a moment!" Loral called back, her voice rather thick and Dany knew at once it was her she had heard crying.

"Loral whatever is the matter?" she asked her, letting herself into the house and pulling her old nurse into her arms at once.

Loral seemed to break down even more now that she was in Dany's eyes and the younger woman was instantly afraid. She had never seen Loral cry, not like this anyway, she was one of the strongest women she knew and this behaviour was completely uncharacteristic. Fear gripped her as Loral held on tight to her and tried to get her emotions under control. The last thing she had expected to do today was break down in the arms of her surrogate daughter but she hadn't been able to contain herself. For some reason it had all crept up on her when the shout had come down from the walls that there had been Stark banners spotted on the horizon.

"Loral?" Dany asked more urgently, "Please tell me what's happened …"

"Nothing's happened," she choked out, "I just … I just miss Jory is all and it all crept up on me"

"Oh Loral …" Dany sighed, "he will be alright you know …"

"How?" Loral demanded, pulling away so she could look into her eyes, "How do you know that when there has been no word?!"

Dany hesitated then, she didn't want to betray Jon's confidence. He had confessed it one time to her in the library where they were sat together trying to read but constantly distracted by her dragon's eggs. He had told her about his dreams that seemed just a bit too real and that sometimes he was in Ghost's mind. Sometimes Ghost would hunt and it felt like it sustained him and somehow Ghost just knew that his brothers and sisters were alright. If the wolves were alright then that likely meant that the Stark children were alright but Dany couldn't tell Loral about Jon's wolf dreams. Likely she would think her and him mad and not believe it anyway. She sighed then as she looked into Loral's eyes.

"I just know," she said, "Robb is certain that we would have had word if the children were captive"

"Yes," Loral finally said, "yes of course we would … I'm sorry Dany … I just … I just miss him so much"

"I'm sure he's fighting to get back to you," Dany assured her.

"I don't want him to be fighting at all," Loral said sadly.

"I know," she smiled, "please don't worry … I'm sure everything will turn out alright"

"Thank you Dany," Loral smiled back as hooves were heard clattering into the courtyard, "you ought to go – no doubt Lord Stark will want to see you."

* * *

"Ned!"

He was barely off his horse before Catelyn threw herself into his arms and he held her so tightly he was surprised she could still breathe as she clung to him, her head buried in the crook of his neck. Gods he had missed her, he had missed her so damn much and he thanked the Gods over and over as he held her, breathing in her familiar scent and promising himself that he would never let her go.

"I'm sorry Cat, I'm so, so sorry," he whispered.

"You're alright," she whispered back, "you're alright Ned … I was so scared …"

"The children?" he asked then.

"They're not back yet my love," she told him and he finally pushed her away from him so he could look into her eyes which were wide and shining.

"They should have been back by now," he said, his own eyes betraying fear.

"Robb thinks they may have been forced into the wilds," she said, trying to keep the shake from her voice.

"Have you heard anything from the Capitol?" he asked her.

"No," she shook her head, "nothing … Robb said we would have heard something if they had them as captives"

"Robb's right," he nodded, some of his fear abating, "we can only wait … Jory knows what he's doing"

"I hope so," she whispered.

"Father!" Robb's voice rang out then and Ned finally looked away from his wife to see his son sprinting towards him.

They crushed one another into an embrace then and Ned vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure his family survived whatever was coming for them. Whatever he had to do he would do it to keep his family safe and secure. Three of his children were missing thanks to his actions, he should have listened to Catelyn and left them behind with her. He cursed himself, clutching Robb closer. She hadn't looked at him accusingly though, not once and for that he was more grateful than he would ever be able to express. He pulled himself away from his eldest son then and looked at him, meeting his eyes that were almost identical to his mother's.

"It's still standing then?" he managed a smile and saw Robb's own lips quirk up.

"As are you," his son quipped and his smile widened slightly.

"Just about," he chuckled, "are the Lords here?"

"Aye," Robb nodded, a slightly irritated expression on his face, "they'll be glad you're back"

"I suppose I ought to face them," he sighed, "come … you ought to join me"

"As you wish," Robb agreed but Ned saw the grim look cross his face and he sighed.

"Pay no mind to Lord Umber … he was the same with me when the Rebellion started," he told him and Robb looked more reassured.

"Father!" Rickon bowled towards him then as he and Robb turned towards the keep.

"My you've grown little one!" he managed a smile as he picked him up and held him close for a moment.

"I've been learning house sigils!" Rickon declared happily.

"Good," Ned smiled, "that's very good"

"Are Sansa and Arya and Bran not with you?" he asked then and Ned exchanged a look with Robb.

"I came on a boat … they're coming a different way so they'll be a little longer," Ned told him.

"But who's looking after them?" Rickon frowned at him.

"They're with Jory," Ned said and his son looked instantly relaxed.

"Rickon, come now, your father has much to do," Catelyn came to his side and Ned lowered Rickon back down to the ground.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he addressed his wife more than his son and she nodded.

"Do what you must," she said and it was his turn to nod before he continued on his way.

They met Dany before they could reach the steps and Ned saw the look of worry and slight apprehension in her eyes and he sighed heavily before embracing her lightly. He could feel her body relax then and he was pained that she had been worried about his return and his reaction, as if he could blame her for his imprisonment? There was no one to blame for that but Stannis for listening to his red witch. When he pulled away Dany managed a smile for him which he returned as he kept his hands placed on her shoulders.

"I don't have to ask to know you've been blaming yourself, but I don't want any of your apologies do you hear me?" he said, "You are part of this family Dany and I would no sooner give you up than I would my own children"

"Thank you Lord Stark," she whispered, her eyes shining as she smiled up at him. He squeezed her shoulders lightly in return before he let go and finally turned to enter the keep.

* * *

"For obvious reasons my intended alliance with Stannis is no more," Ned was saying as all the Lords settled into their seats.

"Renly Baratheon has declared himself King," Robb told him and he raised his brows – that was news to him.

"He's more popular than Stannis and has Highgarden on his side," Lord Karstark said and Ned nodded slowly.

"If the North joined him his forces would be unstoppable," Lord Umber put in.

"Is it true Stannis has a sorceress?" Mage Mormont asked then.

"Aye, a priestess he called her," Ned said, "but I heard different"

"What's one woman to an army of thousands?" Lord Karstark asked.

"Aye, we'll put her down like we'll put Stannis down!" Lord Umber declared.

"Are you all in agreement?" Ned asked, "We march for Renly?"

"For Renly!" the cry was echoed around the chamber and Ned nodded grimly.

* * *

_Storm's End_

* * *

Renly was slightly irritated as he walked back into his tent. He had expected Stannis to refuse him but he was still a little put out that his brother had clearly not even considered his offer. In his mind it made perfect sense. Stannis may have the brains but he had the charm and the looks and the beautiful wife. His beautiful wife was laying on the bed completely bare where he walking in, on her stomach reading a book. He could admit that he enjoyed bedding her now; it still felt strange to him but not in a bad way. Guilt stabbed at him then as he thought of Loras and the fact that he had been spending less and less time with him since he had married Margaery. He told himself that once his wife was with child that he would spend more time with his lover but in truth the thought just made him feel even more guilty. Margaery was his wife and yet he still lusted after another – her own brother. She was already far more understanding that he had had any right to expect from her and he vowed in that moment that he would try and give Loras up. His wife deserved him to be devoted to her and any child they had needed a father to be proud of not one to be ashamed of. A loving family, that's what he wanted – he never wanted his children to end up like he and Stannis had, about to face one another in battle.

"How did it go with Stannis?" Margaery interrupted his thoughts then and he approached her.

"He said no, as you said he would," he said, trailing his fingers lightly up and down her spine.

"Will you march against him?" she asked him.

"I don't have much choice … I've told the men to be ready by sundown," he said.

"You don't think he will strike first?" she questioned.

"He has the better vantage point … he won't give that up," he said certainly.

"As you say," she nodded.

"Enough about this for now," he said, "I would have my wife before I ride into battle"

She smiled slightly then and closed the book she had been reading, setting it aside as he stripped off his clothes. To her surprise he didn't climb behind her and grip her hips as he usually did, his hands instead encouraging her to turn onto her back. She looked up at him in slight confusion as he crawled between her legs but before she could say anything he bent to kiss her. This was new. Renly never kissed her, not like this anyway. Whenever they kissed it was always chaste and formal and almost always for the benefit of a watching crowd. Now he was kissing her deeply, his bare body pressed against hers and she could feel him hard against her as she shifted her legs up to wrap around his waist. She actually shuddered with desire then as he shifted his body so he could slip inside her. He thrust hard, his lips moving from hers and travelling down her neck as she found herself wanting to cry out in pleasure. Renly took heart from her sharp breaths in his ear, coaxing her legs up higher and thrusting harder, the feel of her surrounding him feeling as good as ever.

Her nails dug into his shoulders then as he quickened the pace, her own hips moving to meet his rhythm and sharp cries leaving her mouth now as he made her feel things she had never felt with him before. This time it actually felt like he cared, like he wanted to be with her instead of just bedding her out of duty. She wasn't fool enough to think that that meant he loved her or that he had forgotten Loras but it was a start at least. Her stomach was tightening in knots now as pleasure consumed her, moans leaving her mouth involuntarily as the coils of hidden rope inside her all seemed to snap at once, her body exploding into a state of what she could only describe as bliss. Renly collapsed down against her neck in the next instant and she could feel his warmth spreading through her as they both breathed hard, her chest heaving against his as they tried to calm themselves. He pressed a kiss to her neck after a moment and lifted his head to look at her for a moment, a small smile quirking at his lips for a moment before he bent to touch them to hers. They kissed softly for a long minute before he pulled away and pulled himself up from the bed. Margaery watched him as he reached for his robe, pulling it about him before turning to her.

"I don't know about you but I could use some wine," he commented and she smiled widely.

"That would be lovely," she said.

"I'll pour us some," he said, making his way to the partition in their tent to head into the living area.

"I'll be right there," she replied and he smiled before disappearing from view.

Margaery could hear him moving things around as she finally got herself out of bed, her body still recovering from the pleasure Renly had pushed through her. She smiled to herself as she pulled on her own robe, tying it about her waist as Renly's voice floated through the partition.

"What are you doing here?"

She frowned then. Perhaps she should get dressed properly if they had company. She was just reaching for her dress when she heard his scream and she was darting for the delicate partitioning curtains at once and wrenching them aside. He was on his knees with blood pouring from him, his eyes wide as he stared at her in disbelief. A scream left her own mouth then as she shouted for help, her feet managing to move towards him before she dropped to her own knees in front of him, her hands going disbelievingly to his chest. His own hands grabbed at her robe, his hands clenching in the material that covered her stomach as his mouth tried to form words.

"Renly?!" she gasped, "Renly who did this?!"

"Stannis," he managed, his voice so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"Hold on Renly!" she implored him as his hand slackened around her robe.

He slumped forwards into her then and she held onto him as sobs rose up in her throat, knowing that he was dead. Knowing that no one could save him.

* * *

Their voices were growing louder and more urgent around her but she couldn't make out the words as she sat there feeling completely numb. Renly was gone. That was all she could think. Her husband was dead, murdered just moments after he had made love to her. Moments after he had been smiling and she had finally felt like they were making progress. She stared out at them as they continued to argue, her hands clenching slightly in the silk of her robe that was drenched in his blood. They had taken his body away after they had finally managed to prise her hands from him but she could still see him so clearly, knelt on the ground with the look of disbelief in his eyes. Stannis. He had said Stannis. His own brother had murdered him in cold blood. Margaery couldn't quite understand how Stannis could have got into camp but Renly had spoken his name. He had named him as his killer and Margaery would curse him until the last breath left her body.

"Margaery!" her father's sharp voice finally pierced through her void and she looked up, "you need to get cleaned up!"

"Leave her," Loras snapped, "can't you see she's in shock?!"

"She doesn't have time to be in shock! We need to consider our next move and make sure it's a good one!" Mace snapped right back.

"For once he's right," Olena said, "word of this will spread quickly"

"Her husband is dead, can you not give her a moment?!" Loras demanded incredulously.

"We need to decide, Stannis or the Lannister's," Mace continued.

"Stannis," Margaery said then, her voice raspy.

"Margaery?" Loras turned to her.

"Stannis killed him …" she said, shaking her head, "not Stannis!"

"Did you see him Margaery?" Loras was before her now and shaking her slightly.

"No," she shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek, "Renly said it … he said it before he …"

"Hush now it's alright," her brother's arms came around her then and she clung to him, knowing that he needed comfort just as much as she did in this moment.

"We could persuade Tywin … the Stark girl is not such an attractive prospect now her father is wanted for treason," Olena said.

"You think we could persuade him Margaery is a maid?" Mace asked her.

"The seven kingdoms knew Renly's preference," Olena said dismissively.

"What if I'm with child?" Margaery asked then.

"Then you will tell me and we will deal with it before it becomes a problem," Olena said sharply and Margaery stared at her is disbelief.

"Perhaps she should drink moon tea just in case," Mace said.

"No!" Margaery burst out, "there is no need … I have bled," she lied.

"And he has not managed to bed you since?" Olena asked her.

"No," she lied again, avoiding Loras' eyes.

"Then I suppose we must grovel to Tywin Lannister," she said with a wry smile.

"Can I leave it to you mother?" Mace asked.

"Don't you always," she sighed heavily.

* * *

_Pentos_

* * *

The sun was at its highest and almost unbearably hot as Illyrio stood out on the terrace and looked out towards the gardens where the servants were setting up a shade and laying out lunch for Viserys. He smiled grimly and swept his eyes over the pools and the statues that decorated his expansive gardens. It truly was a beautiful day. The sun was glinting beautifully onto the surface of the pool water and there were a few birds chirping in the still air. Peace. He sighed happily then before his perfect illusion was shattered.

Something was clearly wrong.

Again.

He rolled his eyes then. Viserys had been getting steadily worse and Illyrio no longer had any patience left for him. He had written to Varys and told him the truth of the man's madness, leaving no detail out and imploring him to put all the efforts into the other. If things went badly there then there was always Daenerys. Viserys was a liability. All thoughts of the three-headed dragon flew from his mind when he looked at him raging at one of the servants out in the gardens. Evidently something wasn't to his liking. There was always something. The man had an unattractive sense of entitlement which did not go well at all with the madness that he had inherited from his father. Better a two-headed dragon than the mess that Viserys would no doubt make. The man would have never been able to work with others anyway – especially when one of them had a better claim than him.

Illyrio beckoned a servant of his own forwards then and they came, bowing low to him and waiting for his instruction; "do make sure our esteemed guest is given the _very best _wine," he said and the servant bowed low again before meeting his eyes. Illyrio saw the understanding in them and inclined his head to the man who took his leave at the gesture. He moved his eyes back to Viserys then as he began to eat his food. Ordinarily he would have joined him but he didn't have the stomach for him today – the man infuriated him and likely he would have been unable to hold his tongue. The last thing he needed was Viserys storming off today.

He rested his arms against the balcony of the terrace and gazed out into the distance; across Pentos and out towards the harbour where he could see ships lazily sailing in and out. He refused to turn and look back towards Viserys when he heard the offer of wine made. Still he refused as the offer was briskly accepted and he heard the clink of glass on glass. The next moments were filled with silence. It wasn't until spluttered coughs and the scream of a woman pierced the air that he finally turned. Viserys was turning red, his hand clutching at his throat as he choked, his face slowly turning blue. Illyrio imagined the vessels popping in his eyes and turning them bloodshot as he finally stopped convulsing and grabbing at himself, his body stilling as it slumped to the side. He fell from the chair then, his lifeless weight hitting the ground with a dull thud and Illyrio closed his eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

* * *

The first letter he had sealed and signed and sent with a man he could trust on horseback. He didn't trust a raven with the news he had written, and he wanted assurances that the letter had reached its intended destination. Griff wasn't stupid. He would take the advice that Illyrio had written if he wanted what was best for the boy. This was the best chance. Now. With the kingdoms divided and the North still having not declared for anyone. Twenty thousand men stood waiting for him if he played his cards right. Lord Stark had been disgusted by the murders of Elia's children and Illyrio hoped that that would be enough to make him at least stop and consider this alternative. The best hope was Daenerys. That she recognised the boy as her kin and persuaded the Starks to his cause. According to Varys the girl was well loved in the North and he was hopeful that she would be the bridge they needed to get the outcome they desired.

It was the second letter to the North that he was struggling with. He had addressed it to Lord Stark rather than Daenerys herself and he was trying to break the news of her brother's demise in the gentlest way he could. He also had to make sure that no finger of suspicion was pointed at him and so he chose his words carefully. It was a struggle writing to a man he had never met, second guessing every single word he placed into the letter, his mind positively bursting with all the thinking he was doing. He sighed heavily and took a long drink of wine before casting his eyes back to the paper. _Any one of us could have taken it, it was sent by someone we trusted … we never suspected that they would do such a thing. No doubt Viserys wasn't the intended victim … unfortunately I have many enemies who would gladly see me dead. It pains me that a young man took my place with the Gods. _Too much? Not enough? He sighed again. Either he sent it or he didn't. Besides, what did it matter if anyone suspected him? No one would be able to prove it and Lord Stark would have far more pressing matters to focus on soon enough.

He folded the letter carefully then and dribbled the wax on, pressing his seal into it with finality, waving the letter back and forth so the wax set as he tried to guess exactly what would happen next. If Griff had any sense he and the boy would be setting sail with the Golden Company once he received his letter. Then they would have to seek the girl out and hope that their word and the boys striking appearance was enough to convince them of his cause. So many 'ifs'. Illyrio sighed again. It would do no good to dwell on things he couldn't control. He had pointed them all in the right direction, now all he could do was hoped they steered the ship along the course he intended for them.

* * *

**A/N: **Ooof, they're dropping like flies. Hope you guys enjoyed that - more soon!

:)


	18. Leap of Faith

**A/N: **New chapter! Hope you all enjoy it, some tasty little developments going on ;)

**Guest:** Hello again! I very much enjoyed your letter, I mean review lol ;) seriously though, thank you for taking the time to write it. I felt bad about Renly too, when I planned it I was just like 'yep, he's got to die', when it came to it though I was rather gutted though. He grew on me but I couldn't change my plan so there we are. Viserys you can imagine, was much easier to dispatch! What the North is to do you will see in this chapter. As for wildlings and Greyjoy's ... of course they will make trouble but not until much later on ;) Hope you enjoy this one and feel free to write me another letter! xD

:)

* * *

**Leap of Faith**

* * *

_The Flint Cliffs_

* * *

Arya sat up a little straighter as she heard the rustling of leaves behind her. She turned and strained her eyes in the darkness, the snores of those with her the only thing she could hear now. Likely it was just the wind in the trees but she felt a sense of unease and so she slowly pulled Needle from its sheath and shifted her body to face the direction the noise had come from. Her heart was pounding even though she heard nothing else to suggest that someone or several someone's were there. Ever since the incident on the river they had all been more on edge but since they had passed to the other side of the woodland that stretched up to the Flint Cliffs Jory had relaxed slightly. They were truly in the North now and he doubted that any Lannister hunting parties would stray so far. Lannister's weren't the only thing to fear here though, Arya knew that well enough from the stories Old Nan had told her and from overhearing what her father got up to when he journeyed out from Winterfell. She shook her head as she thought of her father; thinking of him made her eyes sting as she couldn't help but wonder if he had made it out of the Capitol and if he had somehow managed to get Sansa out as well.

She heard the noise again then, closer this time and she shifted up onto her knees, tightening her grip on Needle as she did so. It crossed her mind to wake Jory and the others but before she could the source of the noise presented itself and she could have laughed in relief as Nymeria padded out of the gloom, coming at once to Arya and nuzzling her head against her shoulder. She stroked her lovingly – the wolves had been absent the past few days, Arya felt that somehow they knew that they had to keep out of the way. Now they were back in the North though she was glad that her faithful beast had returned to her. Nymeria lay herself down then and Arya snuggled up against her, far more relaxed than she had been before. Her eyes were almost closed then when Nymeria began to growl and she lifted herself up at once, trying to see what he wolf had as Nymeria's fur stood up on end, snarls and snaps leaving her mouth as she looked into the trees.

Jory was stirring awake then and Arya picked up Needle again as someone emerged from the trees with a sword of their own drawn. Before Arya could even blink several more people came into view and her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Where were they all coming from?

Nymeria sailed through the air then as one of the men came towards them, menacingly brandishing an axe. Arya tried to close her eyes as her wolf clamped her jaw around the man's neck but she couldn't help but stare as Nymeria tore out his throat, blood gushing from his neck when she let go and let him drop dead the floor. She hoped that his grizzly end would deter the others but even more of them were appearing now and she cried out for Jory and Gendry, telling Bran to get back away from it all. Jory shoved passed her in an instant, pushing her back towards Bran and engaging someone in combat as Nymeria ripped her way through a second and a third victim. Bran backed into a tree then and she stood in front of him with Needle gripped so firmly in her hand that it was almost painful. Gendry and Jory had both cut their way through a man each as Nymeria continued her own assault but still there were others and Arya could understand why there were so many of them.

She almost let a scream come from her mouth then as a hand grabbed at her and she kicked hard at the man's shins causing him to grunt in pain as she readjusted the grip on her sword. Before he had managed to recover himself from her kicks she had gone for him and stabbed Needle right through his gut. He groaned in pain and the hot blood spilled out over her hands as she struggled to wrench Needle free again. Bran was staring at her as she tried to pull her sword from the man, his attention so fixed on her that he didn't notice the man sneaking up on him until he was grabbed at. He cried out and Arya tugged even harder on Needle, finally pulling the sword free and going for the man who held her little brother. Before she could reach him though a wolf tore through the air, knocking the man to the ground, Bran rolling away from his clutches as the wolf ripped him apart.

"Summer," he breathed in relief and Arya let out her own breath.

Their other assailants seemed a lot less confident now that another wolf had joined the fray and the few that were still standing fled from their little camp as Summer and Nymeria snarled in their wake. Thankfully the wolves didn't chase after them, staying instead at the sides of their masters as they tried to calm themselves down.

"Are you both alright?" Jory's voice called then and they turned to make their way towards him.

"We're fine," Arya said weakly.

"Arya killed a man," Bran said and Jory raised his brows.

"You hurt?" he asked her and she shook her head.

"Not a scratch," she promised and he looked satisfied if a little uneasy.

"Gendry?" he asked then as he too made his way back to them.

"Fine," Gendry replied and he nodded.

"Who were those people?" Arya asked.

"Wildlings," Jory answered her.

"This far south? But how did they get over the Wall?" Bran asked.

"Believe me, wildlings have their ways," Jory said darkly.

* * *

_Craster's Keep_

* * *

Benjen would rather be anywhere else in the world but this was the only place for leagues and leagues where they would get a hot meal and something resembling a roof over their heads. Craster would whine and moan for as long as he deemed necessary and then he would give in and let them stay for the night. Benjen hated being in his presence though, the man was deplorable and he was prepared to resent every second spent here biting down on his tongue. His men looked just as uneasy as they approached the 'keep' seeing several of Craster's daughter-wives milling about casting them suspicious looks. He didn't let his eyes linger on them as some of his men were doing, that would not endear them to Craster and he wasn't fond of the Night's Watch in the first place. Benjen sighed then, the old letch always gave up his information in the end – he couldn't help himself.

"Crows is it?" the man himself said as they entered his abode; "What do you want?"

"Your hospitality for the night," Benjen said and he snorted.

"Got wives to feed you know … winter is coming," he said, his eyes dancing with glee and Benjen sighed heavily.

"Just for the night," he said, "surely you can stretch to that?"

"Maybe that I can," Craster said, scratching at his chin, "but any of your men lay a hand on my girls and I'll cut their cocks off"

"They will keep their hands to themselves," Benjen promised.

"One night you say?" he checked.

"One night," Benjen confirmed and he nodded slowly.

"It'll cost you," he said and Benjen fought not to roll his eyes.

"How does three barrels of finest northern mead sound?" Benjen asked him.

"Seems a fair price," Craster said and he almost snorted – the price was extortionate and they all knew it but they still played along.

Benjen and his men seated himself then as Craster's daughter-wives flitted about fixing up their meal. None of them spoke much, all of them trying to keep their eyes fixed determinedly on the floor so Craster couldn't accuse them of eyeing his girls. The whole arrangement disgusted Benjen but if this was how the man had chosen to live he had no right to pass judgement over him. North of the Wall folk were free to do as they pleased and it pleased Craster to marry his daughters and have them bear more daughters for him to marry. He took his bowl of hot stew then with thanks, making sure not to make eye contact with the girl who had handed it to him. Him and his men ate in silence and tried to ignore the moans of pain coming from outside the keep that he could only guess belonged to a woman in labour. Craster seemed unaffected by the whole thing, only shouting out between mouthfuls of his own dinner for the others to shut the woman up.

As they finished their dinner and handed their empty bowls back to one of the women another few came in from outside with news of the baby.

"Well?" Craster demanded gruffly.

"A boy," one of the women informed him and he sighed heavily.

"Be ready at sundown," he said and she nodded curtly before walking back outside.

Benjen didn't ask. He knew better that to ask what that meant. They would only be here for one night and the only information he wanted was information on what exactly Mance Rayder was up to. He chanced a glance at Craster then but the man looked distracted. His eyes soon snapped to Benjen's though and he fixed him with a searching look that made him feel thoroughly unsettled.

"What do you want to know crow?" he asked.

"Mance Rayder," Benjen said simply.

"He was one of you once," Craster said and Benjen heard the mocking tone.

"I am aware of that, what I'm unaware of is what he's doing now," he said evenly.

"Gathering all the wildlings together," Craster told him.

"Impossible," Benjen shook his head, "the clans hate one another … there is no way …"

"It's happening crow," he said and Benjen frowned deeply.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Now that is a question I don't know the answer to and nor do I care to join him to find out," Craster said and Benjen nodded.

"Thank you," he said and Craster snorted before easing himself out of his chair and heading towards the door.

Benjen watched him disappear out into the darkening day and stood himself up, telling his men to stay where they were and not to even think of touching any of the women. They murmured their agreement as Benjen made his way to the door, hiding slightly in the shadows as he watched a woman crying as Craster took a bundle in his arms that Benjen could only assume was his new born son. Craster walked away then with the babe still in his arms and Benjen made to follow him, keeping a good distance away and sticking to the shadows as much as he could. He followed him into the trees and hid himself behind the trunks as Craster continued on. Eventually he reached a clearing and Benjen crouched down in the undergrowth and watched with his heart pounding as Craster lay the babe down on a rock before turning and walked away. Benjen stayed where he was, unable to tear his eyes from the little bundle that was now starting to wail. He had to fight every single instinct in his body not to get up and take the babe into his own arms. Just as he was about to give in, wanting nothing more than to comfort the babe and take him back to his mother, there was rustling from the other side of the clearing and he stayed frozen where he was.

What he saw made him want to scream out into the night. The man was dead, pale white and walking towards the rock where the babe lay. Benjen bit down on his fist to stop himself crying out as the creature's bright blue eyes fixed on the crying bundle. Gods he had wanted so badly to believe that it was a story, that the wildlings were spinning tales for their own amusement but here it was in front of him. Proof. Proof that the walkers had risen again, more terrible than the tales that Old Nan had ever told him. He could taste blood in his mouth then as the creature bent down to pick up the babe, the boys crying starting to cease now he was in those cold, dead arms. Benjen wanted to do something but there was no way he could fight a walker, they were already dead. Only weapons made of dragonglass could kill them as far as the legends told. He didn't have any dragonglass, only steel and steel would do nothing to the lifeless creature that was walking from the clearing with Craster's son in its arms.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Ned let out a long, tired breath as he read out the letter and he could feel Robb's eyes on him as his son worked on the opposite side of the room. The news of Renly had been bad enough but now this. He put his head in his hands then and massaged his temples for a moment as he tried to think of the best way to break the news. Really there was no good way, just as there had been no good way to tell the Lords that Renly was dead and they had no one to declare for anymore. The decision had eventually been made to protect the borders and men had been sent down to the strongholds. Ned thought it unlikely that anyone would march on the North yet, not when there was plenty of trouble in the south to be dealing with. For now he would keep well out of the war but there was nothing he could do to escape this news. He looked towards Robb then and his son frowned at him quizzically.

"Can you go and fetch Dany?" Ned asked him.

"Of course," he rose up, "is something wrong?"

"I need to speak with her," Ned said and Robb nodded again, his frown deepening but he said no more as he made his way from the room.

He returned all to quickly with Dany on his heels and Ned wished that he had spent a little longer trying to find her so he could have had a chance of coming up with a way to tell her. Ned sighed and stood, walking to stand in front of her and seeing her lift her eyes up to meet his. She was such a sweet girl – this was the last thing she deserved but he couldn't keep it from her.

"I received a letter from Pentos," he began and her brow creased slightly, "it contained news of your brother Viserys … I'm sorry Dany … I'm afraid he's dead"

"Dead?" she repeated in a whisper, "How?"

"He was poisoned … I'm so very sorry," Ned said sincerely as her eyes filled with tears.

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly.

"If there is anything I can do …" he began.

"May I be excused?" she asked him.

"Of course," he said and she nodded her thanks, turning to walk from the room as the tears threatened to spill out of her.

Robb stared at his father then for a long moment and Ned could see the conflict in his eyes. He wanted to go after her that much was clear but Ned knew that like him, Robb had no idea what he could possibly say to her to make it better. Perhaps just his presence would be enough, the two of them had always been close; "go after her," he said gently and Robb didn't need telling twice, practically sprinting from the room.

Robb ran down the hallways, stopping everyone he saw on his way and asking them if they had seen which way Dany had gone. She had definitely left the keep he had learned that much and he ran out into the courtyard and scanned the area for her. He could see her nowhere and his heart pounded ferociously in his chest. Perhaps she had gone out into the gardens, somewhere peaceful. He grabbed a passer-by then and asked them hurriedly if they had seen her. They thought she might have gone to the library and he thanked them hastily before running as fast as his legs would allow him to the library tower, pounding up the steps and practically falling through the door.

She was stood with her back to him and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart as he approached her. He hesitated slightly before placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

"You know," she said quietly, "I always had this dream that he was happy like me, that he had found a family across the Narrow Sea who cared for him and would keep him safe. That even though we were apart our lives were somehow mirroring each other's. I so badly wanted him to be happy and secure but how could he have been? How could he have been safe and happy if someone could poison him in the place he called home?"

"I don't know Dany," he said honestly, squeezing his shoulders.

"Was he miserable and scared all this time I was happy and looked after?" she asked him.

"You can't think like that," he said softly as she put her head in her hands, her body shaking slightly as the tears took over her.

Robb wanted so badly to pull her around and crush her into his arms and say all the right things to make it better but he could not think of a single comforting word as he kept his grip strong on her shoulders as she continued to cry. His mother always said that sometimes it helped to cry, she cried sometimes when she missed her father or when she thought about her mother. Sometimes that's just what she needed to do and afterwards she would feel better. Something told him that Dany would need more than a few minutes of tears to make this better though and his heart ached for her. He hated seeing her in pain and knowing he could do nothing about it.

"I'm all alone," she choked out then, "it was just him and me left and now he's gone and I'm all alone in the world!"

"You're not alone," he told her firmly, "you are not alone and you never will be"

"It always used to comfort me when I couldn't sleep," she confessed, "the knowledge that I had a brother out there who might be looking up at the same stars as I was"

"Dany," he breathed, finally turning her around to face him; "you have a family here and you always will, Winterfell is your home"

"I know," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

"You're loved here Dany, my family loves you … _I _love you," he said and her shining eyes widened.

His heart pounded even more wildly then, part of him unable to believe what he had just confessed to her. It seemed like an age but finally she inched a fraction closer to him, her eyes still holding his and he leant slowly towards her, finally pressing his lips to hers. She inhaled sharply and he pulled back, cursing himself for making an advance on her when she was so upset. Before he could take it back or apologise though she had leant up and touched her lips to his again. He pulled her closer then and her hands wrapped around his neck, her fingers toying with the curls at the back of his head as their lips seemed to melt together. The kiss was becoming increasingly frantic and Dany tore her lips from his as he backed them into the shelves, one of her hands coming to steady herself against them; "I love you Robb," she managed to get out then between his kisses and at her confession he kissed her even more forcefully.

Desire was taking them both over now and before either of them knew it her legs were wrapped around his waist and he was pulling up her skirts. It was as though all the tension that had surrounded them for so long had finally manifested itself and even though Robb knew it was wrong he couldn't help himself and he knew that she felt the same from the way her hands were roaming his torso, searching for the fastenings of his doublet. Her fingers were deftly loosening it now as he let his own hands squeeze around her upper thighs. When her hands found his bare chest he groaned into her mouth, one of his hands moving from her to unthread his laces. Before he could do though a shout floated up the stairs and their lips finally wrenched away from one another's as the shout rang out again. It was Jon. They were looking for them, the family were worried. Robb felt guilty then, stepping back so Dany could place her feet back on the floor, her hands rearranging her skirts as he called out to Jon that they would be right there, his own hands going to fasten up his shirt and doublet.

"I'm sorry," he said then, his breathing still ragged.

"I was as bad as you," she said and he heard the underlying tone of regret.

"I don't want to dishonour you Dany I'm sorry," he breathed, cupping a hand round one of her cheeks.

"I know you don't," she whispered, sadness welling up in her again for a whole different reason.

"I meant what I said, I love you," he told her, meeting her eyes.

"I love you too," she promised him and his lips quirked up.

"I could listen to you say that forever," he confessed and her own mouth managed a smile.

"We should go," she said, making to move away from him but he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms.

"I'm not letting you go, not now," he said fiercely.

"Robb …" she started, he had to stop this – it would do neither of them any good.

"We're going to do this properly … I'm going to talk to my father," he said and her eyes widened.

"Robb …" she began again but he cut her off with a kiss.

"Don't argue with me Dany," he almost growled when he pulled away, "I don't want anyone but you."

* * *

_Aboard the 'Shy Maid'_

* * *

Griff looked out over the bow of the ship, seeing the sun rising above the horizon before he let his eyes flicker back to the letter in his hands. _It could be the best chance you … Sail to the North they have declared for no one … Daenerys is kin, she can turn the Stark's to your favour. _The words made sense but it was still a risk. What if this Daenerys had no power or influence over the Stark's? Illyrio was assuming far too much but what if this truly was their best chance? He heard stamping footsteps behind him then and saw the young man emerging from below deck, his hand pushing his shoulder length dyed blue hair from his sleepy eyes.

"What news?" he asked Griff, eyeing the letter in his hands.

"Illyrio seems to think the time is right to set sail," he told him.

"And what do you think?"

"I think this could be our best chance … your aunt Daenerys is still in the North and the North has not yet declared for anyone," Griff said and the lad frowned slightly.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I can't answer that," Griff shrugged.

"Do you truly think we have a chance of persuading them?" he pressed.

"Persuading them of what? Your true identity or to join us?" Griff returned.

"Both," the young man scowled.

"They're our best hope … Ned Stark will not be able to deny your appearance," Griff told him.

"The man who helped wipe out my house?" he asked almost angrily.

"The man who saved your aunt from death, the man who argued publically with the usurper over your supposed death and the death of your sister," Griff soothed him.

"He still became that usurper's Hand," he spat.

"And he still keeps Daenerys safe and we need her what with Viserys' death," Griff said.

"Three heads the tales say, and where do you suppose we find the third?!" he demanded.

"Never mind that … an army is more important right now," Griff said.

"How many does the North command?" he asked.

"Twenty thousand, and with Ned Stark wed into house Tully it is likely they could call on the Riverlands … and perhaps the Eyrie," Griff answered.

"Could any stop us?" he asked.

"Highgarden have large numbers but Renly and Stannis Baratheon are at odds with one another," Griff replied and he watched as the young man contemplated his words.

"You think the North is our best hope?" he finally asked.

"I think if you want to take your birth-right and reveal yourself to be Aegon Targaryen then the North is your best hope," Griff answered.

"Then that's settled," he said, looking out into the distance, "we sail to the North."

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts on these new developments would be awesome!

:)


	19. Game Changer

**A/N: **New chapter! Hope you guys all enjoy it!

**Guest:** Thank you! I'm so pleased with what you said about Aegon, I've had rather mixed reactions so it was nice to read something so positive. What you said about Jon is spot on as well. If Aegon does stick around I can absolutely hand on heart promise you that he won't marry Arya! Also, Sansa won't be paired up with any of those that you mentioned so hopefully that will make you happy too. Don't worry about it sounding like a rant, I appreciate the review and I wouldn't have known you weren't writing in your native language if you hadn't told me! Hope you keep enjoying the story!

**Guest:** I know! Sorry about that, I did think that when writing it and I meant to check it before I put the chapter up but I plain forgot. I have gone back and amended it now so there will be no more talk of dragons killing walkers. Wights on the other hand ...

**that same guest:** Hello again! Glad you're still enjoying! Bran ... Bran ... what to say about Bran? His path won't be the same, so much has already changed for him but I am planning to introduce his greenseer abilities at some point. That doesn't mean he's going to go off on any adventure beyond the Wall though. Events have changed so any visions he has will change to reflect that. Robb will fight for her I can assure you of that and I'm so glad you enjoyed their 'finally' moment haha. You can assume he is real, although he might have to prove that. As for the dragons/WW thing, I've gone back and changed it. But as you said, the dragons would still be a big help with the wights!

Right then! On with the chapter, thoughts would be awesome!

:)

* * *

**Game Changer**

* * *

_Flint's Finger_

* * *

"Is that it?" Arya asked as they reached the brow of the hill and looked across at the castle on the edge of the cliffs.

"That's it," Jory confirmed and she laughed out in relief.

"Are we there?" Gendry asked as he struggled to regain his breath.

"We're on the flat now lad and we'll reach it in less than an hour," Jory grinned.

Arya and Bran bounded ahead with their wolves, Jory and Gendry following on at a much more leisurely pace. Jory could scarce believe that they had finally made it as he and Gendry strolled up to the gates where Bran and Arya were waiting impatiently for them. He ushered them through and they made their way through the crowds, many people giving them a wide berth when they caught sight of the direwolves. Jory told them to stay at the foot of the steps to the keep as he made his way up them, unsurprised when a guard stepped across to block his way.

"Do you have business here?" the man asked him.

"My name is Jory Cassel and I am Captain of the Guards at Winterfell, I'm escorting Lord Stark's children from the Capitol and I would speak with Lord Flint," Jory answered him.

The guard looked at him for a moment before his eyes went around him to the children and the wolves waiting at the bottom of the steps. His face seemed to set determinedly then and Jory knew he believed his tale. If the wolves didn't convince him then nothing would have.

"I will show you to the solar and fetch Lord Flint … are those wolves trained?" he asked.

"Better behaved than the children," Jory jested and the guard smiled.

"Come, follow me," he said and Jory gestured for the children to follow him inside.

They did as he bid and they all settled nervously in the solar, Arya's leg jumping up and down as they waited as Bran and Gendry shifted uncomfortably. The wolves padded around quietly, sniffing at their new surroundings and sending meaningful looks to their masters every now and again. Jory smiled slightly before jumping to his feet as the door opened, bowing uncertainly.

"Lord Flint?" he questioned and the man smiled.

"Robin," he introduced, grasping Jory's hand for a moment, "Lord Stark will be most relieved at your arrival … but … is there not one missing?"

"Lady Sansa slipped away, I couldn't find her in time and I thought it best to get the others out lest risk us all being discovered," Jory explained.

"Stupid Sansa," Arya muttered and Bran elbowed her in the ribs.

"She is still at the Capitol then?" Lord Flint said with raised brows.

"Unfortunately," Jory confirmed and he sighed heavily.

"You can send word to Lord Stark from here and stay as our guests until he sends his orders to you – likely he will send a guard to fetch you," he said.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Jory said.

"You're most welcome," Lord Flint smiled slightly, "we have long been loyal banners to Winterfell."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa stared blankly into the mirror as the ladies maid twisted and pulled her hair back and pinned it. It was beyond ridiculous that she had to go out on this stupid procession and ride at Joffrey's side and smile and wave and pretend she was happy to be there. To pretend that she was _lucky_ to be there. If she had her way she would ride through those streets and right out the gate and she wouldn't look back until she saw Winterfell looming up on the horizon. That would be impossible though. She had had her chance to get away and she had turned her back on it. No doubt Bran and Arya were back now and safe in the arms of their mother. She blinked then as she felt her eyes sting. No tears today. She wouldn't give Joffrey the satisfaction. The maid told her she was finished then, her hands moving from her hair and Sansa took a deep breath before rising up from the vanity.

She barely noticed the woman that had fixed her hair as she made her way from her chambers, the guards on either side of her door falling into step a pace behind her as she walked through the hallways and down steps to the vast entrance hall where she saw _him _waiting. Joffrey's face twisted into a smile that didn't reach is eyes. It never reached his eyes. Had it ever? She had deluded herself into thinking that he would love and protect her and it was only now when it was too late that she saw him for what he truly was. A monster.

"My Lady," he greeted, a slight sneer to his tone that she didn't miss but others would.

"Your Grace," she curtseyed, forcing herself to meet his eyes, sick of being so afraid of him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Of course your Grace," she replied, placing her hand on his arm that he had held out to her.

"It's a great honour for you to be riding at my side," he told her as they made their way outside.

"Of course your Grace," she repeated.

"Especially when most of the people only see you as the daughter of a traitor," he said nastily.

She said nothing then, fighting the urge to clench her hand around his arm and pinch her nails into him until he bled. Thankfully they reached the horses then and the Hound helped her up onto her own. He was one of the few of Joffrey's guards she could tolerate, he had never made a move to strike her. Not like Ser Meryn and the others. She saw the Queen and Ser Jaime saddled up side by side but she could see no sign of Lord Tyrion which made her feel slightly uncomfortable. He seemed to be the only one that could wield some control over Joffrey, he had stopped him from harming her on several occasions and had come to her to tell her that Jeyne was safe and secure. She hoped he was telling the truth, she hadn't seen Jeyne since that day her life was almost ended and she missed her, frequently praying to the Gods that her friend was alright.

The order was shouted out to lead off then and Sansa dug her horse into her heels to obediently trot along at Joffrey's side. There had been no mention recently of their wedding and she was glad of it. Perhaps if it was put off for long enough she would be able to find some way out of here and back home where she belong. _Stupid Sansa. _That's what Arya had always muttered under her breath and as the procession made its way under the gate and into the bustling street she could not disagree with her. The people were noisy as she glanced around and she couldn't help but notice that many of them were shouting unfavourable things. She hoped Joffrey couldn't hear them, not that she was concerned for his feelings – merely worried about what his reaction would be. She glanced at him then and saw the tinge of pink in his cheeks that told her that he could hear every jeering word.

"This is your fault," he hissed at her and she stared at him.

"My fault?" she asked him incredulously before she could stop herself.

"Yes your fault," he snarled, "they think me weak and foolish for continuing my betrothal to such a traitorous whore!"

"Maybe you should send me home then and you won't have to put up with it!" she snapped back at him.

"You will pay for that," he said dangerously, "I would have thought you'd have learned to keep your mouth shut by now, you really are a stupid bitch"

"Why don't you make me pay for it right now? Show your people what you're really like," she dared to say and he flushed angrily.

"How dare you speak to me like that?! Shut your mouth!" he almost shouted at her.

"Why don't you make me," she challenged him.

At her words he reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist before she had a chance to snatch it away from him. He twisted it painfully hard then and she couldn't help but cry out, the angry shouts coming from the crowd seemingly intensifying as she did so. A call of warning went up then and Joffrey let go of her wrist in time for them to both look up and see the mob were growing more than restless. They were getting violent. One of the guards was struck down then and Sansa tried to wheel her horse around as shouts went up to retreat back to the keep. Hands were snatching at her then and she tried to kick them away, in her desperation turning to look for Joffrey but seeing that his saddle was empty. She heard the screams of the Queen then, demanding men find her son as the hands became more insistent, dragging her down from her horse. It was her own screams leaving her then as the men dragged her down into the chaos.

It was all happening so quickly she could barely comprehend what was happening as she was half dragged into an alleyway. Two men held her and another four advanced on her as the riot in the main street continued. She was so frightened that she could almost hear her own heart thudding over the shouts and screams of the mob. The men were advancing closer now and before she knew it she was being dragged down to the floor, hands tearing at her, pinning her down as she struggled against them. She screamed over and over and begged them not to as her arms were forced behind her head, one of the men kneeling down and going to unlace himself. Seeing him uncovered made her feel sick and she struggled even harder against her captors as he pushed up her skirts, promising to fuck her good. He forced her legs apart then and pressed himself between them and she braced herself for the pain, wondering if they would kill her afterwards or let her go.

The pain never came for her though it came for him and she screamed out as the tip of a sword suddenly protruded from his chest. His blood dripped down onto her and she scrambled back from him as the men who had been holding her down released her. She could hear their pounding footsteps retreating down the alleyway as she looked up into the face of her saviour, furiously tugging down her skirts with shaking hands.

"Come on," the Hound said gruffly, bending down to scoop her into his arms, "I'm getting you out of here"

She didn't have the strength nor the will to argue with him, finding herself leaning into him as he carried her away from the crowds. It was only he had been walking a while that she realised that they were heading in the wrong direction, the keep was back up the hill and yet they were heading downhill.

"What are you doing?! The keep is the other way!" she exclaimed.

"I'm not taking you to the keep," he said calmly.

"But you have to! If you don't then Joffrey will kill me!" she said in a panicked voice.

"He won't be killing anyone," he said certainly.

"What do you mean?" she asked him fearfully.

"I mean he's dead," he said gruffly and her eyes widened.

"Where are you taking me?" she whispered.

"Home," he said with finality.

"I can't go! Not without Lady!" she protested.

"Lady?" he repeated.

"My direwolf, please! I can't go without her!" she pleaded.

"Fuck's sake," he muttered, "if I spring your damn wolf will you shut up and stop complaining?"

"Yes," she promised, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"Fine," he growled, "let's find you someplace to hide first and I'll go and get the bloody thing."

* * *

Jaime steeled himself before he pushed open the door. This would not go well.

"Well?!" Cersei demanded, turning from her pacing, her face completely blanched.

"They found him," he told her and she stopped dead.

"Well where is he?!" she asked him desperately, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry," he said seriously.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "why are you sorry Jaime?! Why are you sorry?! You tell me now what you're sorry about!" she screamed at him, her knees buckling as he came forwards to clamp her into his arms, her fists beating at his chest but he held tight to her as she screamed and sobbed against him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing kisses to her hair, "I'm sorry Cersei … he's gone …"

* * *

_Highgarden_

* * *

They were still in there. _Negotiating. _It didn't seem to occur to anyone that she didn't want to get married again, especially not to a little abomination like Joffrey. They could deny the rumours at the Capitol as much as they liked but she knew they were true and she would not marry such a man, much less have him in her bed. She couldn't anyway … not now. She bit her lip and turned from the closed door behind which her father and grandmother were speaking with Lord Baelish. He had come the day before and he made Margaery's skin crawl. He promised he could make her a Queen again and she had thanked him nicely enough, painting on her best smile until he left her alone and she could finally cry. They wouldn't want her as Queen if they knew. Her only hope was Loras and she prayed to the Gods that he would save her as she knocked softly on his door. He answered after a moment, stepping aside to let her in and she walked across the fire as he closed the door, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst from her chest.

"I need your help," she said lowly.

"With what?" he asked her with a frown.

"I can't marry that boy," she said and he sighed heavily.

"You don't have much choice in the matter … and neither do I," he said sympathetically.

"I know you can't change their minds," she said.

"Well what do you want then?" he asked, his frown deepening as he walked towards her.

"I need you to get me away from here, away from them," she whispered.

"Margaery …" he began, shaking his head.

"Please … you loved him didn't you? You loved Renly?" she asked him desperately.

"I did," he confessed in a pained voice and she saw the agony in his features.

"Then you need to help me save his child," she said and he stared at her.

"His …" he trailed off, his eyes flickering down to her stomach that betrayed no change yet.

"They will force it out of me if they found out," she hissed desperately, "please Loras you have to help me – you're our only hope!"

"I'll help you," he promised, folding her into his arms, "I'll get you away … you'll have to go far out of their reach"

"Where?" she whispered against him as she clung to him.

"There's only one place," he replied, holding her closer, "I'm sending you to the North."

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Theon bit down on his lip as he concentrated on carving into the bark of the tree. This clearing in the trees behind the Godswood had become his and Adele's place and he was wiling away the time waiting for her by carving their names into the wood. He heard her footsteps behind him then and he smiled to himself as he moved his dagger to carve the final letter of her name.

"What are you doing?" her sweet voice asked and he could feel her right behind him.

"I was bored waiting for you," he said as he finished it off.

"Poor tree," she smiled at him as he turned to face her.

"That will be there for hundreds of years," he told her, "people will see it and make up stories about us long after we are gone"

"Favourable stories I hope," she teased him, her arms snaking up around his neck.

"The one thing they will know beyond any doubt is that Theon loved Adele," he said softly.

"Loved?" she raised a brow.

"I tried fighting it but I can't help it Adele … I'm in love with you," he said and her eyes widened.

"Theon …" she said softly but he kissed her before she could say anymore, he didn't want to know if she didn't feel the same.

He lowered her to the ground as they kissed, her legs coming around his waist as he pressed his body to hers, wanting her so badly as he ran his hand up her bare thigh. She shuddered with desire beneath him then and his body screamed at him to take her completely, to fulfil that need that has risen up in him from the very moment he had set eyes on her. It was more than just lust now though, now that he had spent so much time with her and shared so much with her. Shared things about his life that he had never shared with anyone before, had never wanted to share with anyone before. Adele was just so easy to be with, so right to be with and he had fallen without even meaning to and when he looked up from the depths he could no longer see the light at the top. He had been sucked down into the depths of love and as he deepened their kiss he knew that he could not regret it, even for a moment.

"I want you Adele," he breathed against her lips, "I have to have you"

"Theon no," she almost moaned, "you know I can't give myself to you …"

"But I love you," he insisted.

"And I love you," she returned and he stared at her in shock, "but that doesn't change anything"

"It changes everything," he whispered.

"It doesn't change this," she said gently, "I thought you knew that?"

"I just want you so badly," he confessed.

"I know …" she soothed, "and I want you but we just _can't _Theon, I can't give myself to a man that isn't my husband"

"I know," he sighed in defeat.

"Can't we just carry on as we are?" she asked, "I thought we were happy as we are?"

"We are," he said, "we are Adele I'm sorry"

"You're forgiven," she smiled, "now enough talk … I want you to kiss me again."

* * *

Robb twisted his hands together as he paced nervously outside his father's study. He had promised Dany over a week ago that he would talk to his father and in between their stolen kisses in darkened hallways he had tried to find the right words in his mind. He still wasn't certain he had them but he was going to go in there and try. No. He was going to go in there and succeed, he would do whatever it took to have her as his wife – even if it meant giving up his claim to Winterfell. He swallowed hard and knocked at the door, hearing his father's weary voice telling him to come in. The timing wasn't great but he couldn't stand not having her any longer. He wanted to stake his claim to show everyone that she would be his and no one else's.

"Robb," his father managed a small smile for him as he let himself in.

"I need to speak with you," Robb said and Ned set his quill down and frowned slightly at his son.

"What's wrong?" he asked, Robb was paler than usual and he could almost feel his nervousness.

"I know it would have been impossible when Robert was King … but since he is dead and we are declared for no one …" Robb started.

"Robb what is this about?" Ned asked him gently.

"You might not approve but …" he struggled with the words, "but I would give anything for her … even my claim to Winterfell if that's what it took"

"Robb what are you talking about?" Ned asked him more sharply.

"I love her father … I want her as my wife," Robb finally said and his father sighed heavily.

"Dany," he said knowingly after a moment.

"How did you know?" Robb asked him with a slight frown.

"You've been in love with that girl since the start … likely I knew before you did," Ned smiled.

"But …" Robb started.

"You are not giving up any claim to Winterfell, you're my son and the seat is yours once I am dead … and I think you will have a strong Lady at your side," he said.

"Does that mean yes?" Robb asked him, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

"If Dany is agreeable … it's best you ask her first before you get ahead of yourself," Ned said amusedly.

"Gods …" he whispered.

"And you might want to talk to your mother … but she will doubtless be thrilled," Ned told him.

"Yes," Robb agreed in a slightly dazed manned, "Gods … truly?"

"Truly Robb," he actually chuckled now, "you are my son and I love you, the one thing I want above all else is for my children to be happy and I know you would be miserable without her"

Robb nodded then and his father stood up from behind his desk and strode round to grab him in a tight embrace for a moment. Proud didn't seem like a strong enough word for him to utter to Robb but it was the only one he had.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured and Robb's hands clenched slightly in his doublet.

"Thank you," Robb said lowly and he smiled, pulling away from him.

"Go on," he nodded to the door, "I know you must be itching to find her"

"Thank you," Robb repeated, making his way to the door at once leaving his father chuckling lightly behind him.

He ran into his mother in the entrance hall and she managed a smile for him which he was glad to see. She had been miserable lately what with them still having no news from Bran and the girls. Robb was sure they were alright though, he felt connected to his siblings through the wolves and Grey Wind knew that his brothers and sisters were alright. Robb just knew that if the wolves were fine then his siblings were fine because he knew in his heart that Grey Wind would die to protect him and he was certain that the other wolves would do the same for their masters.

"You look happy," his mother said knowingly.

"I went to see father," he said.

"Has he had any word?" she asked, her eyes widening hopefully and he felt suddenly guilty.

"No," he said, "I'm sorry mother"

"It's fine," she forced a smile, "what did you see him about that's made you so happy?"

"I'm to be married," he said, "if she agrees which I'm hopeful she will"

"To whom?" she asked him, her smile genuine this time – part of her thinking she knew the answer.

"Dany," he grinned.

"I thought as much," she said, her smile widening.

"I love her mother," he said.

"I know you do," she replied, patting his cheek in an affectionate manner.

"Don't say anything yet … I've yet to ask her," he cautioned.

"I am certain she will say yes," his mother smiled and he felt reassured beyond belief.

"Have you seen her anywhere?" he asked then.

"I saw her on my way in, she was on her way to the library, that girl gets through books so quickly – I'm surprised she has not read her way through it yet," she said.

"Thank you," he smiled.

The library seemed like an appropriate place to ask her since it was where they had first confessed their feelings and shared their first kiss. The first of many. His smile widened then as he imagined her reaction. She had been so convinced that they were living a fantasy and that his father would more than likely disagree. Robb had been more optimistic but even he had imagined he would have had more of a fight on his hands when it came down to it. Knowing his mother and father were behind him made his heart swell though and he turned his smile on his mother and embraced her gently. She held him back gladly, so thrilled that her son could have the happy life he deserved, the life she had always longed for him to have. She had no doubt in her mind that Dany would make him happy for the rest of his days, she could not have asked for a better good-daughter.

"Forgive me my Lord, Lady Stark!" a panicked voice rang out then and they broke apart.

"What is it?" Robb asked with a frown.

"There is a fire my Lord," he told him and Robb's eyes widened.

"Where?" his mother asked from his side, panic in her own eyes.

"The library," the guard told them and Robb's heart sank like a stone.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you all liked my little surprise regarding Joffrey ;)

More importantly though, HE SAID YES! *ahem*

Thoughts would be awesome!

:)


	20. The Dragons Awakening

**A/N: **Hey guys! I won't keep you, I'm sure you want to get reading. Just a quick note that the next two chapters are set all in Winterfell but it's over the course of one night so we won't be missing anything any where else!

**ImptheTarg:** Glad you're happy about that, most people were to be honest! No, the fire is nothing to do with Melisandre, Joffrey sent the arsonist, he and Cersei discussed it a few chapters back :)

Right, on with the chapter! Hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

**The Dragons Awakening**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb was sprinting out the door before Catelyn had even half opened her mouth to call him back. She hurriedly told the guard to fetch Ned before she went tearing after him, terrified that her son was about to do something stupid that could lead to him getting killed. The sight of the flames swirling around the library almost made her stop dead on the steps but she pushed on, screaming out for her son. The guards were milling around, desperately filling buckets of water and passing them down the line. The townsfolk were gathered in the courtyard, many trying to help, others just transfixed by the blaze. She tried not to think of Dany in there as she pushed through people, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of Robb, on the verge of tears now as she called out for him again. As a mother picked her crying child up and moved them away she caught sight of him desperately pushing against the guards who were restraining him from entering the library. She felt immense relief and gratitude as she hurried towards him, Jon coming from the other direction and grabbing onto Robb as she reached him.

"Robb what are you doing?! Stop it!" Jon shook him, pulling him away from the guards who returned to help put out the blaze.

"She's in there Jon! She's in there do you expect me to stand out here and watch her burn?!" Robb roared at him and Jon let go of him in sheer shock.

"Who's in there?" he asked him, already knowing what his answer would be.

"Dany," Robb choked out, devastation taking over his anger now.

Jon looked from him to the tower then and before Catelyn could grab his wrist he had darted away and passed the guards.

"Jon!" she screamed, grabbing hold of Robb as he made to follow him.

"Let me go mother!" he demanded, wrenching his arm from her grasp.

"No!" she snatched him back, "Don't you even dare! You are my son Robb, I won't lose you!"

"Cat," Ned's voice sounded behind her then, slightly out of breath.

"Talk sense to him Ned," she said, emotion rising up in her as Robb looked between her and the burning library.

"She's in there father!" Robb implored him.

"You going in after her will do no good," Ned said, stepping forward and grasping his shoulders tightly, "if you really want to help you can help extinguish the flames"

"But …" Robb started.

"No buts Robb! You either help the guards or I will lock you inside do you understand me?!" he shook him slightly.

"I understand," Robb finally said, meeting his father's eyes.

"Good," Ned said, sounding relieved, "now go and make yourself useful and don't even think of putting yourself in any danger"

"I won't," Robb managed and Ned released him, watching him hurrying to help the guards and the men who were filling bucket after bucket with water.

"Ned," Catelyn whispered then, slipping her hand into his, "Ned … Jon has gone in there."

* * *

Dany coughed heavily as more smoke began making its way under the door. She hadn't noticed at first as she had sat poring over a book about the time of dragons, reading the descriptions of the eggs that were so like her own. In the end she had smelled the smoke and got herself up and to the door, only the handle was burning hot under her touch and she had snatched it away, knowing that there were flames on the other side. She had beat her fists against the door then and screamed for help but she just knew that it was no good, even if anyone could hear her they wouldn't get passed the fire. She thought of Robb then as she backed towards the window, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her dress as she choked again. He had been going to finally speak to his father, promising her that this time he would actually knock on the door. She would never get to hear the answer now and tears stung her eyes as she thought of never seeing him again. Never holding him in her arms and inhaling that wonderful scent of his nor feeling the touch of his lips against hers, tasting him and revelling in every part of him. Gods she wished they had given in to the longing, that she could die knowing he had possessed her completely.

The tears fell faster down her cheeks then as she slid down the wall and onto the floor, seeing the lick of the flames under the gap in the door. She was going to die. Gods she was going to burn alive. She prayed then that the smoke would choke her before the flames could reach her skin. She prayed and prayed that she wouldn't feel the blistering heat and the excruciating agony. Wildly she thought of what had happened to Lord Stark's father and it made her curse her own. How could he have done such a thing? It was only now when she was facing a similar fate that she truly understood how Brandon Stark could have strangled himself in his desperation to save his father. If it were Robb here now she would face death to reach him. She wondered if he would do the same, if he was out there now screaming for her, trying to fight passed flames to get to her. He couldn't succeed. He would burn before he got anywhere near her and she prayed to the Gods that they would stop him, that they would hold him back and forbid him. Sobs were taking over her now and she buried her head in her hands, rocking slightly as she prayed with every fibre of her being.

Something inside her refused then. Something inside her screamed at her to stop her crying and pick herself up. She had to fight for this. She had to try everything to get out of this and back to Robb because she couldn't leave him without her. Not without a fight. If those flames wanted her they would have to come and find her because she would not willingly sit and let them come for her. She stood up then, a new determination in her as she glanced wildly about the room. Paper. Damned paper everywhere. But if the fire was burning through paper and wood it would take it longer to get to her. She moved then between the rows of shelves and pushed with all her might against one of the great cases. It took a huge amount of effort but eventually she felt it start to tilt and she kept on pushing with everything she had until it teetered over, crashing into the one it was leaning against and sending that tumbling through the next row and the next. Maester Luwin would be devastated she thought irrationally then as the moved to the one still standing next to it and did the same thing. Again they finally tumbled down with an almighty crash and she continued on down the line until she had pushed all of them down.

Now there was a blockade of fallen shelves filled with countless books and heavy tomes between the door and her. Perhaps that would buy her some time. Her eyes caught her eggs then that were sat there on one of the desks. Cursing herself she began to clamber over the fallen shelves to reach them, pulling the box down and almost dropping it. She cursed loudly then and pulled the eggs out of the box, cradling them as best she could with one arm as she used the other to help her clamber towards the wall opposite the door. The wall with the window. The window. Gods why had she not thought that before? She gently placed the eggs down onto the floor then and went to try and swing the window open. It wouldn't budge though and she screamed out in sheer frustration, beating her fists against the glass in anger before she looked about the room for something to break it with. There were two old swords mounted above the fireplace, one of which she believed had belonged to Brandon Stark. She tugged on the hilt of one of them then and prayed that Lord Stark wouldn't be angry with her as it came free.

It was far too heavy for her, especially now she had weakened herself by pushing all those shelves over but she dragged it towards the window before a coughing fit took over her. She leaned against the sill then, pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool stone as she tried to get her breathing back under control. When she found the strength to lift her head again she caught her reflection in the mirror and told herself in no uncertain terms that she had to live. She had to fight. She had to get out and back to Robb because she loved him and he loved her and she wouldn't let him suffer her death. She gripped the sword tightly in both hands then and backed slightly from the window before raising it above her head, closing her eyes and bringing it swinging into the window. The shattering sound had her opening her eyes then and she dropped the sword, feeling the strangest desire to laugh. She approached the window, pulling out some of the larger, sharper shards of glass and dropping them to the floor.

It felt so good to stick her head out into the cool night, hearing the urgent shouts of the men and the cries of women and children and she sucked in the clean air gratefully. When she felt she had the strength she called out for help, forcing herself to keep screaming it over and over even though her throat was raw and desperate for her to stop. One of the guards looked up then and in the next second she heard him shouting out to others and pointing up at her. She saw Robb then, even from this height and in the darkness she could see him and she could see the relief in his eyes when he saw her there in the window. He was shouting something up at her but she couldn't hear him over the noise of everything else so she just contented herself with clambering up onto the windowsill and keeping her head firmly out of the window. Some of the guards were bringing out grappling hooks now and she prayed to the Gods that they would swing them up onto the neighbouring roofs before the flames charred through the door. They were licking under the door now and she knew it wouldn't be long before they touched something in the room that would make the fire take hold in there. She closed her eyes then and prayed again, even harder than before.

* * *

Getting up the steps had been easy for Jon, the fire seemed to have started up in the actual library and he prayed to the Gods that Dany had had the sense to get to the window and get herself onto the roof. There was a possibility she was hurt and unable to though and the thought of her laying there unknowing had spurned Jon up passed the guards who were pounding up and down the steps with bucket after bucket. Several of them had called out to caution him, telling him to go back down and that they would soon have it under control. He ignored them though, desperate to find Dany. When he came face to face with the wall of flames though he faltered, wanting nothing more than to run back down the steps and let Lady Stark scold him over and over before she pulled him into her motherly embrace. Then he remembered the look on Robb's face and he imagined the sheer pain his brother would be in if Dany didn't come out alive. He steeled himself then, pulling up the hood of his cloak and taking a deep breath before he darted through the flames, ramming his shoulder against the smouldering door of the library.

It crumbled away far to easily and he staggered slightly, hearing a scream as he lost his balance, his hand snatching for something to grab hold of but only finding flames. He could feel them hot on his skin and he expected to feel it burning, to feel agony take him over but he only felt heat. No pain reached him and he couldn't understand why as he finally managed to grip hold of the doorframe and steady himself. Now wasn't the time to dwell on that though as he stepped into the smoke filled room.

"Jon?!" Dany gasped out in disbelief from where she was seated on the windowsill.

"Dany are you alright?" he asked her, clambering over the shelves that he imagined she had pushed over to create some kind of barricade.

"They're trying to throw up grappling hooks … I'm alright Jon, what were you thinking?!" she demanded of him, sliding down from the sill as he staggered towards her.

"I could hardly do nothing," he said.

"You fool," she whispered, "how in the name of the Gods did you get through those flames without injury?"

"I think I may have burnt my hand," he said, remembering the flames that had licked around it.

She took his hand in his then and turned it over gently so she could inspect his palm. There was not a mark on him and they both stared. Jon had expected blisters or some redness at least. Rickon had burnt his hand on a hot plate once and he had screamed and screamed. The blisters had lasted days and he had to be kept bandaged up so he didn't aggravate them. That had only been a hot plate and only for a second. Jon's hand had been in the flames for longer than that and the fire was bound to be a thousand times hotter. So why wasn't he burnt? He looked up and met Dany's eyes then and she frowned at him.

"Was it your other hand?" she asked and he shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "it was this one"

"Well it looks like you didn't burn it after all," she said, a slight shake in her voice.

"No," he agreed.

Before he could think any more on it though Dany's eyes were going for the door and he could see that the fire had already pushed into the room, already eating its way through the shelves that Dany had thrown down. He could hear the guards on the other side trying desperately to fight it and he could hear the shouts from outside. Dany moved back to the window then to see if they were making any progress. It looked as though one of the hooks had been secured and she saw the guards testing their weight on it. One began to climb after another moment and she tried to calm her pounding heart. He would still have to manage to hook a rope through the window of the library for them to be able to get down and she tried not to think about how difficult that would be, instead taking a few deep breaths of fresh air before turning back to Jon, alarmed to see him clambering back towards the flames.

"Jon what are you doing?!" she screamed at him as he plunged his arm into the fire; "Jon stop it!" she cried out and he pulled his arm back.

He turned to look at her then, peeling away the burned leather of his doublet and his singed shirt to show her that there was no mark on him. She stared at him then, her mind racing with all the reasons she could think of that fire wouldn't touch him but she could only think of one and it made her head hurt so much she thought it would explode. It was impossible. There would be another explanation and she would think herself foolish for even considering that Jon could be her kin. It was wishful thinking. There was only her left and it was stupid to think that there was anyone else no matter how desperate she was to believe it. They locked eyes and she swallowed hard. Jon was a Stark. Unmistakably so and she was a fool for questioning it.

"How?" he asked her quietly.

"I don't know," she replied in a whisper.

"I can get you out," he said then.

"No Jon, just wait for the rope to be thrown up," she said, shaking her head.

"Who knows how long that will take, the flames are spreading fast!" he implored her.

"But …" she started.

"Dany the fire can't touch me! Just trust me, I can get you out of here!" he promised.

"Alright," she whispered, stepping up onto the fallen shelves before she remembered something and darted back.

"Dany! What are you doing?!" Jon demanded.

"My eggs," she said breathlessly, gathering them up, "I can't leave them here!"

If he thought her foolish for wanting to save stones then he said nothing about it, merely watching her as she clambered her way towards him, holding his hand out for her to take when she reached him. He steadied her as close to the flames as he dared then and pulled off his cloak. It was thick and he prayed it would be enough to keep her from the flames as he wrapped it around her.

"Ready?" he asked her and she tightened her grip on her eggs.

"Ready," she nodded.

"We'll have to be quick," he said and she nodded again.

Jon wound his arm about her then and pressed her as close to him as he could before pulling her towards the flames. Gods it was hot, he could feel his skin sweltering and the ends of his hair singeing but it was not burning him. He moved as quickly as he could, pulling Dany with him, relieved that he could not hear any cries of pain leaving her. He could see the other side then but he could no longer see any of the guards. Had they given up trying to fight the flames?

Dany could see the other side too and she breathed out in relief, her throat feeling the heat when she took in another breath. The heat was sweltering, sweat dripping from her forehead and drenching her palms. Jon tugged her firmly through the last of the fire then and her grip on her eggs loosened, one of them falling from her slick hands. She cried out then as the other two followed it into the flames, reaching out to try and grab them before she had thought about what she was doing. Jon called out to caution her, seeing her hands reaching into the fire, expecting her to recoil and scream out in pain but she didn't. Too bewildered to try and work anything out he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her out of the flames. She coughed and spluttered as he pulled her a short way down the steps, the fire still raging above them. They moved their eyes from the flames to one another then and saw the relief mirrored in one another's expressions.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I don't think you needed my help after all," he said weakly, pulling her hands up to examine them, seeing no mark on them.

"It didn't touch me either," she said wonderingly.

"No," he said, his heart thumping irrationally hard.

"I can't believe I dropped the eggs," she scolded herself.

"I'm sorry Dany," he said meaningfully.

"They were all I had of my brother," she said sadly.

"Perhaps they will be salvaged when the flames are put out?" he suggested hopefully.

"Perhaps," she agreed but he could tell by her voice that she wasn't convinced.

"Come on, let's get out of here before Robb's heart gives out," he said and she nodded, making to follow him down the steps.

A noise behind her made her steps falter then as she turned back, Jon looking at her curiously as she strained her ears for it. She was certain she had heard something. A sort of faint chirruping unlike anything she had ever heard before. Perhaps she had imagined it. She couldn't hear it anymore and she shook her head and made to move further down the steps. As she moved she heard it again and she snapped her head back. This time it had been louder and she was certain that she hadn't imagined it.

"Did you hear that?" she asked Jon.

"Hear what?" he asked her with a frown.

"_That_," she said as it sounded again and he moved back up a few steps despite himself.

"Yes," he said, "wait there …"

She followed him despite him telling her to stay where she was but he hadn't got far and she almost collided with him as she hurried to catch him up. The reason for his sudden halt became clear as she peered around him, her eyes widening to such an extent that she thought they might just fall out of her head. Surely she was seeing things?

"By the Gods," Jon breathed then.

"How is this possible?" she whispered and he shook his head slowly.

"I have no idea," he whispered back as one of the little creatures staggered towards them.

Jon bent forward instinctively as it threatened to topple down the steps and Dany stared at him as it clambered its way up his arm and perched happily on his shoulder. Dragons. _Dragons. _Her head spun. Three of them, hatched from her eggs. By the Gods how was it even possible? They were stones, _stones._ But then they had always felt warm under her touch, a warmth that no one else could feel but that she had sworn was there. Was it connected somehow? The flames not touching her and now three dragons emerging from the fire. She looked at Jon again then as the other two dragons came tentatively closer, Jon holding out a hand so another of them could clamber up onto his other shoulder. She had no idea how he could be so calm about this but she mentally shook herself and stepped forward, tentatively holding out one of her own hands to the last dragon. It chirruped at her before clambering up her arm, its little talons pinching slightly as it made its way up to her shoulder where it settled quite happily.

* * *

They had filled all the buckets and containers they had and were preparing to haul them all up to the top in a bid to extinguish the flames. Throwing individual loads of water one at a time had barely helped and this was a new tactic that they were all praying would work. Robb was exhausted with the effort of running to and from the well, sometimes hauling up water, sometimes just taking a container from someone who had already filled some. He couldn't stop though. He wouldn't stop until he had Dany back in his arms. She had disappeared from the window and that had terrified him but still he made his body move to collect more and more water.

A cry of surprise went up then and he could hear his mother burst into tears and somehow he just knew she was back. He dropped the bucket he had been carrying and tore around the corner. The presence of three baby dragons should probably have made him falter, especially as one was draped around the neck of the woman he loved, but he barely saw them as he ran right up to her and pulled her into his arms. The creature around her neck hissed slightly but he ignored it, she could explain it all to him later but right now he couldn't care less as he bent his head and pressed his lips firmly to hers. He didn't care that the whole of Winterfell could see them, he didn't care about anyone but her in that moment. When he pulled back he raked his eyes over her, looking for any sign of injury.

"Are you hurt?" he asked her, seeing no sign that she was.

"No … no I'm not hurt at all, the fire … it couldn't touch me Robb," she said shakily.

"Thank the Gods for you," he almost moaned out in relief, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

He glanced to Jon then and saw him being simultaneously scolded and embraced tightly by his mother. He would thank him when he had the chance. Part of him still couldn't believe that his brother had rushed into a burning building and come out alive. There didn't look to be a mark on him either and Robb closed his eyes and silently thanked the Gods for the woman in his arms and his brother.

Ned stepped forward then, suggesting gently that perhaps they go inside. The people were staring and he couldn't blame them, they had just witnessed two people walk unscathed from a blazing building with three dragons. Dragons. His head swam. There hadn't been dragons for hundreds of years and now there were three of them. Here. At Winterfell. Gods this was all too much for him to take in but he needed to sort himself out. He watched Robb leading Dany back towards the keep before he turned his eyes back to Jon who Catelyn had finally released from his clutches. Not a mark on him. Thank the Gods. He would have questions though and Ned would have to give him answers. Dread filled him as he wondered how Jon would take it. The news would change his world but Ned knew he could hide it no longer. It was time for Jon to know the truth. The whole truth.

* * *

**A/N: **You may have guessed that Jon finds out the truth next chapter ;) hope you enjoyed this one, please let me know!

:)


	21. Reactions

**A/N: **Just want to say a massive thank you to the overwhelming response to the last chapter! I was honestly giddy!

**Becka:** Thank you to both you and your friend, so glad you enjoy my stories. This one is my priority at the moment but I do have others up my sleeve which I'm hoping to start working on soon :)

**Guest:** I'm sorry, I appreciate your comments about Targaryen's not technically being "fireproof" in the books but as you said they changed that in the show and this is filed under the show section. I know I bring in elements from the book (Aegon for instance) but for me them being "fireproof" was necessary for this fic and Jon's heritage being revealed. Rest assured they aren't just going to go wandering around sticking their hands into flames just because they can. Also, it is AU so why not have them resistant to fire? Hope this doesn't sound like I'm mad at you, I appreciate your comment but I just feel I have to defend my decision a little bit. I do hope it doesn't put you off the story as it really is a minor thing in the grand scheme of things! :)

Right 'ho! On with the reactions!

:)

* * *

**Reactions**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Wine, I think," Catelyn said shakily, moving to pour several glasses out, locking eyes with Ned for a moment and knowing this was it.

"Thank you mother," Robb said, gratefully taking two glasses from her and handing one to Dany.

"Jon?" she said then, offering him a glass which he took.

Ned came forward and snatched up one of his own, drinking down half of it in one. She topped it up without a word and he smiled grimly at her before he turned to face those in the room with them. He had no idea how any of them would talk it. His eyes lingered on Jon for a moment then as Catelyn crossed to close the door. It would do no good to have anyone overhear this. One of the dragons chirruped then and Ned closed his eyes. _Dragons. _He still couldn't get his head around it but right now they were the least of his problems.

"Neither of you are hurt," he stated then and Jon and Dany both shook their heads.

"The flames … they were hot but … they didn't burn us," Dany said with a frown.

"It's your Targaryen blood," Ned told her and she nodded in understanding before looking to Jon.

"Then why couldn't they touch me? I'm no Targaryen," Jon said and he sighed heavily.

"Father?" it was Robb who spoke up, his brow furrowed.

"My mother?" Jon questioned then.

"No," Ned swallowed hard, "your father"

"I don't understand," Jon shook his head and Robb's frown deepened.

"What are you saying?" Robb asked and Dany took his hand reassuringly.

"I …" Ned started, almost choking on the words, "I am not your true father"

"What?" Jon whispered into the almost deafening silence.

"I am your … uncle," he said and Jon stared at him, trying to work it out in his head.

"My mother?" he asked dangerously quietly.

"Lyanna," Ned told him, feeling Catelyn move closer to him.

"My father?" Jon almost choked then and Ned somehow knew he had guessed it.

"She loved him Jon … the reason for Robert's rebellion was a false one only none of us knew it at the time," Ned tried to explain, seeing Dany's eyes widen.

"My father?" Jon repeated, his hands shaking.

"Rhaegar Targaryen," Ned confessed and Dany gasped, Jon turning away and Robb closing his eyes in disbelief.

Ned didn't know what to say then and he was grateful to Catelyn when she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it reassuringly. He had never imagined having to tell Jon this, especially not now when there were three dragons curled up together in one of the armchairs. Dany turned her eyes on him then and he saw the almost accusing look in them and he wanted to hide from her violet gaze.

"My brother died for nothing," she whispered.

"I didn't know Dany," he said, shaking his head, "I didn't know until I went to Dorne and found Lyanna with Jon … I'm sorry"

"The war was for nothing," she said, shaking her own head, "his children …" she faltered, feeling sick as she remembered the tale of Elia and her children.

"Not quite nothing," Robb spoke up, "don't forget my grandfather and uncle"

"I haven't," she shook her head, "but Rhaegar … he didn't do that"

"He took my sister, what was I supposed to think?!" Ned asked desperately.

"How did she die?" Jon turned back then and Ned looked at him, seeing the anger and the betrayal in his eyes.

"On her childbed," he said, not seeing any point in lying to him again.

"I killed her," Jon stated.

"No," Ned shook his head, "no … these things just happen sometimes … it is no fault of yours"

"Jon … my mother died birthing my brother, but it was no more Edmure's fault than Lyanna's fate was yours," Catelyn said soothingly, stepping forwards to take his hand.

"You lied to me!" he burst out, snatching his hand away from her and tears stung her eyes.

"It was necessary Jon," Ned reasoned but he shook his head.

"My whole life!" he choked out.

"Jon please!" Catelyn said desperately, "Please Jon we had to lie, but we always loved you – you are like a son to me!"

"Only I'm not your son!" he burst out, "My mother is _dead _and I never even knew her! And now I find out I don't even have a father!"

"Jon you have a family," Ned tried to soothe him.

"A family of liars!" Jon shouted out, throwing his glass at the wall.

"Jon … please …" Catelyn tried again to reach out her hand but again he snatched it away.

"Don't touch me, don't even look at me! I don't want your pity!" he roared and she flinched.

Robb was on his feet then, placing himself between his mother and Jon and staring at him in utter fury. He knew Jon must be angry but he would not tolerate him speaking to his mother like that, not when she had always been nothing but kind to him. None of this was her fault. As far as he could make out none of this was anyone's fault, it had all just been born out of some tragic love story that no one had known about at the time. His father wanted to protect Jon as he had Dany, knowing that any child of Rhaegar's would be at risk with Robert on the throne. Robb could see it all so clearly, why couldn't Jon?

"Don't you dare speak to my mother like that," Robb snarled then.

"Or what? What are you going to do to stop me?" Jon challenged, shoving his chest slightly.

"Robb …" his father cautioned.

"It's all alright for you isn't it? Nothing has changed for you," Jon sneered at him.

"Of course it has!" Robb burst out, "You're my brother!"

"Not anymore I'm not!" Jon shot back.

"It doesn't have to change anything Jon!" Robb shouted at him.

"It changes everything! Are you that fucking stupid?!" Jon roared at him, shoving against him again.

"Jon …" Robb tried to grab at him to stop him but he shoved him even harder, causing him to stagger backwards slightly.

"You're as bad as them!" he pointed at Ned and Catelyn accusingly, "How can you possibly think this is alright?!"

"Of course it's not alright but that doesn't mean you have to push us away!" Robb shouted desperately.

"Jon please … just try to understand why we couldn't tell you," Ned put in.

"I'll never understand," Jon shook his head.

"Jon you're still kin …" Catelyn said and he glared at her.

"I'd rather have no kin," he said venomously and Robb finally snapped.

His fist connected with Jon's face before anyone could caution him and in the next instant Jon barrelled at him, catching him around the waist so they tumbled to the floor, their fists battering at one another as Robb attempted to roll Jon off him. Catelyn was shrieking at them to stop and Dany was pleading over and over as Ned attempted to drag Jon off Robb. Jon strained against him though and threw another punch at the man beneath him that caught him hard in the jaw. Robb spat blood then and Catelyn couldn't help the tears that came as Ned finally succeeded in dragging Jon up and away from him. Dany dropped down at Robb's side then, helping him to sit himself up and Catelyn's eyes moved from him to Jon who was shrugging himself out of Ned's grip. She instinctively moved to position herself between him and her son who was still down on the floor. Jon's eyes flashed then with a look that she couldn't quite place before he turned and wrenched open the door, pounding away down the hallway and ignoring her shout at him to come back.

Ned's hands came to rest on her shoulders then and she leant back into him as tears streamed down her face. "It's alright," he soothed her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms; "it will take him some time to get his head around it but he will come back Cat."

* * *

Robb winched slightly as Dany pressed the damp cloth to his cut lip which was throbbing dully. His mind was racing and he could see her looking at him with something akin to pity in her eyes and he wished she would stop. He felt guilty for thinking that, she was only worried for him and this news about Jon had changed her life as well. Robb had been so caught up in thinking about how his own relationship with Jon had suddenly changed to even consider that Dany has suddenly gained a family member when she had thought she was all alone in the world. Jon was her nephew. Robb's head spun at the thought, he couldn't get his head around any of this. It was all madness. She set the cloth aside then and contemplated him with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"I shouldn't have hit him," he finally said.

"No," she agreed with a slight smile.

"I know he didn't really mean it but I hated him speaking to my mother and father like that," he said.

"I know," she soothed, lacing her fingers through his.

"How does my face look?" he asked then.

"Handsome as ever," she smiled properly.

"You're a bad liar Dany," he said.

"It will heal," she said, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his forehead.

"I thought I'd lost you today," he breathed out then, squeezing her hand more tightly in his.

"Part of me thought I'd die in there," she confessed and his fist clenched.

"I won't let anything like that happen to you again," he promised her and she pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"You don't need to worry about fire finishing me off," she said with a slight quirk of the lips.

"That's not funny," he growled.

"But it is true," she said and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I love you," he told her, meeting her eyes again.

"I love you," she returned, a smile playing about her lips.

"Will you marry me Dany?" he asked her then and her eyes widened.

"Are you free to ask me that?" she whispered.

"I am," he nodded, "and I know everything's a mess right now but I need to know that despite all this madness and uncertainty that I have you"

"Of course I'll marry you," she breathed and he grinned at her, tugging her forwards.

She kissed his lips lightly, not wanted to aggravate the cut that had only stopped bleeding a few minutes ago. His arms came about her waist then, pulling her into his lap where she curled herself against him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck and her own arms wound securely around his waist. Robb was right. Everything was mad and uncertain but just for this moment she let herself forget it all and focus on the man in her arms. The man she loved. The man she would marry and bear children for and adore forever. Her Robb. _Her _Robb. Finally.

* * *

Jon drained the last of the bottle and reached out for another one, pulling out the cork clumsily and raising it to his lips, the empty one rolling to the feet of the stone woman before him. His mother. His head swam then. He was drunk but not drunk enough, his mind was still thinking things he didn't want to think about and so he continued glugging down the strong wine. His cheek still throbbed where Robb had punched him and he felt a twinge of guilt. Likely he had deserved it. He could scarce remember what he had been shouting and accusing now but he knew that it hadn't been nice. He didn't want to be nice though, he was angry. So fucking angry. He staggered up to his feet then and looked into his mother's stone eyes. Lyanna Stark had had grey eyes and was every inch a Stark, her blood had wiped out any trace of Targaryen in his features. His blood was that of the dragon though and he clenched his fist hard and took another long drink.

"Why did you have to die?" he asked her then, seeing two of her as his vision started to blur.

He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be down in the musty old crypts anymore. He wanted to be back up there where he could find something to make him feel again, make him feel alive. Perhaps he would go to the brothel and have a woman. That was Theon's favourite past time and he always had a smile on his face. What did honour matter anymore now anyway now that his whole life had been turned on its head?

Jon staggered up the steps, swigging more from his bottle of wine as he did so. The lights were blazing in the keep but he didn't want to go back there, knowing Lady Stark would likely cry and crush him into her arms. If he let her do that then he would find himself forgiving her, forgiving all of them and he wasn't ready for that yet. He didn't _want _to forgive them. He swayed instead towards the gates and into the town, making his way down a narrow alleyway that was a shortcut to the main square.

"Jon?" a familiar voice sounded behind him and he turned to see Serra.

"What are you doing here?" he slurred as she came closer to him.

"Are you drunk?" she asked him.

"Not nearly enough," he said and she frowned, "you shouldn't be cutting down here alone"

"It's the easiest way home," she said, "I don't normally use it in the dark but I saw you come down"

"I'll let you go on your way then," he said and her frown deepened.

"Jon are you alright?" she asked him, her concerned eyes fixed on him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?" he asked her and she blushed.

"No," she said, shyly avoiding his gaze and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"You're very beautiful," he whispered, leaning in close to her.

Serra's heart pounded as he came ever closer, their lips about to touch. She had imagined this so many times but she had never thought that it would happen. She hadn't though that Jon was actually interested in her, he was always nice to her but he had never paid her any special attention. He was paying her attention now though as his lips pressed to hers. The kiss was clumsy at first as they both tried to find the right way to move their lips together but they soon worked it out and Jon's blood pounded in his ears as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and pushed her back up against the wall. Her hands clenched in his hair then and he lost himself in the feel of her in his mouth, of him in hers. She was just what he needed to take him away from this living hell he had found himself in and he needed more from her.

His hands tugged her skirts up hurriedly and Serra knew that this was the right moment to stop him, that she couldn't let him take her and ruin her. She made no move to stop him though as he picked her up and pinned her against the wall, her hands tightening in his hair as her stomach twisted in both fear and anticipation. Jon was an honourable man, everyone knew that, if he took her maidenhead then he would likely mean to take her for his wife and the thought of getting to keep him forever thrilled her as his hands clenched tight around her thighs. What did it matter if they did this now? Surely it wouldn't matter so long as he wed her afterwards?

Jon dropped one of his hands to fumble at his laces then, furiously pulling them free and shoving his breeches down his hips slightly before moving himself closer to Serra. Before he could even think about what he was doing he was pushing himself inside her and her lips wrenched from his, a gasp of pain leaving her as he tore through her innocence. Jon let his lips move to her neck then, kissing and nuzzling at her as he rocked his hips. She felt good. She felt so fucking good and he just focused on how good she was as he thrust faster and harder, his hands gripping her thighs tightly as he moved inside her. Serra bit down on her lip and tried not to cry, it hurt, Gods it hurt but it would all be worth it because Jon wanted her and that was what mattered. The feeling of him moving so roughly inside her was uncomfortable but she supposed she would get used to it as she clung on to his shoulders. It would be over soon enough and it only hurt the first time. Next time would be different, there would be no pain and they wouldn't be doing it in some gloomy alleyway.

He groaned out against the skin of her neck then as he felt his release coming. He was so close, so close to exploding into her tight warmth and he dug his fingers even further into the flesh of her thigh as it finally came. His movements stilled then as he twitched to his end, spilling himself deep inside of her and groaning out in relief against her neck. Her own grip on his shoulders slackened then and reality started seeping back in to his drunken mind. He lifted his head and saw the un-spilled tears in her eyes and guilt gnawed at him. He pulled himself out of her then, and stepped back to lower her feet back to the ground. She appeared to be trembling slightly as she righted her skirts and he avoided her eyes as he laced himself back into his breeches. Gods he should never have done that. He had just taken an innocent girl and ruined her future prospects, all because he was angry about something and she had happened to be here. Gods he had turned into the man he had never wanted to be. He was like Theon. No. He was worse than Theon because Serra was a good, sweet girl and he had taken advantage of her kindness. He would never forgive himself for this.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I am so, so sorry Serra"

"It's alright," she whispered back but he heard the hitch in her throat.

"You should go home," he said gently and she nodded her head.

"Goodnight Jon," she said.

"Goodnight," he returned, watching her go with the guilt only rising higher in him as he heard her let out a sob as she rounded the corner.

He should go after her, he should go after her and drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Then he should ask her to marry him, to make all of this right. He should take the fury of her mother and the disappointment in the eyes of Lord and Lady Stark and then when Jory came home he should stand there and let her father maim him if he so pleased. The idea that he may have put a bastard in her terrified and disgusted him. He didn't want her to suffer that shame. He didn't want to allow any child of his to suffer that pain but still his feet didn't move. He just stood there staring at the spot he had had her pinned against not minutes before with no thought for her or her feelings. Gods he was a bastard, a true bastard, he had known Serra liked him, he wasn't as ignorant to it as everyone had assumed him to be but he had never thought of her in that way. That hadn't stopped him tonight though and he put his hands up to his face in shame. He should go after her but he wouldn't, he would take the craven's way out.

He turned then and walked back up the alleyway, ignoring the guilt in his stomach and the pain in his heart as he thought of what his family's reaction would be. What did it matter? Would it not be easier for them as well if he were no longer around? The stables were deserted when he reached them and he walked down passed the stalls until he found his horse. The man he had called father had gifted the mount to him on his fourteenth name day. That seemed forever ago now. Back when he was happy. He looked up at the keep as he led his horse out and sighed heavily. If he were any kind of man he would walk back in there and apologise for the hateful things he had said and confess what he had done to Serra. He wasn't that man though and so he mounted his horse, digging his heels in and urging the animal out of the gates and into the darkness of the North.

* * *

Ned knew that Catelyn was still awake as he cradled her against his chest. Both of them were too tense to sleep, both of them just waiting for the knock on the door that would alert them of Jon's return to the keep. Theon was on the night watch tonight and he had promised to come to them at once when Jon arrived back. It was late into the night now and Ned imagined that perhaps he had drunk himself into a stupor and passed out in the stables. He wouldn't be the first man to do that and he certainly wouldn't be the last. Theon and Robb had done it on Robb's sixteenth name day and Ned had had Jon and Dany rouse them the next morning with buckets of ice cold water. The memory of the laughter and the cursing made his lips twitch up into something that vaguely resembled a smile.

"What are you thinking of?" Catelyn asked him and he started, somehow she could sense what his facial expression was and it still astounded him.

"Do you remember Robb's sixteenth name day?" he asked her in return.

"Theon liberated some of your Arbor Gold if I remember right," she smiled slightly.

"They were good bottles … they deserved that wake up," he said.

"I never knew Robb knew so many foul words," she said then.

"I think he got them from Theon as well," Ned said in amusement.

"More than likely," she agreed.

"Jon was never any trouble though … I never had to worry about him for a moment," he said.

"But you did anyway," she said knowingly.

"He's like a son to me Cat," he said and she sighed heavily.

"And to me," she replied sadly and he tightened his hold on her.

"He'll forgive us … he has to," he breathed, kissing the top of her head.

"Do you think we'll find him passed out in the stables tomorrow?" she asked, lifting her head up to look into his eyes.

"I hope so Cat," he sighed, "I truly hope so."

* * *

**A/N: **Safe to say Jon did not take that well! Thoughts?

:)


	22. Reckless

**A/N: **Bit of a mixed reaction to the last chapter but it's all good. For those of you who didn't enjoy it hopefully you'll forgive me!

**Guest:** I know the poor thing, but I plan on making things much better for her - just give me time! :)

**ImptheTarg:** That's exactly my reasoning. This Jon isn't canon Jon so his reaction won't necessily be what we can only imagine canon Jon's would be. As for the dragons and how they hatched and everything ... really I'm just going for the fire because if I start getting into all this blood magic stuff I'm going to get confused and if I get confused my story will get confused and I don't want that! Thank you though, I will keep it up and I'm glad you think it's interesting!

**One last thing everyone**, please don't get mad at me for lack of Jon/Dragons in this chapter because after spending two chapters in Winterfell focusing on the Stark's we really do need to catch up elsewhere. There will be a section from Winterfell but it won't be loads. We'll see more of Jon and the like in the next few.

:)

* * *

**Reckless**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei stared as the slab was slid into place, covering her beloved son's body. She hated that he was down here in the crypts, next to Robert. She wanted him to have been sent back to Casterly Rock and buried in the family vaults but Tyrion had told her no. It would be inappropriate and the people were whispering about her and her children enough as it was. She would have swung for him but Jaime had grabbed her around the waist and dragged her kicking and screaming from the poisonous little imp's presence. Everything seemed to be going wrong. Joffrey was dead. Sansa Stark was missing, presumed raped and murdered and thrown into the Blackwater and now to top it all her father was on his way back to the Capitol. Cersei wasn't stupid enough to assume that just because she was grieving for her son he would let her get away with losing the Stark's and organising a failed attempt on the Targaryen girl's life. They had nothing to keep the North at bay now with Sansa gone and if they wanted to ride on King's Landing out of pure revenge then no doubt they would take it. They were weak. Even with her father's gold, men and influence they were weak. Even weaker now that Tommen was on the throne. Joffrey hadn't been much more than a boy but Tommen _was _a boy and a gentle one at that.

There were murmurs all around her as people made their way from the crypts until it was only her and Jaime left and she wished she would go away too and leave her alone with her son. It seemed since he had been taken from her no one had left her alone for a moment even though inside she was screaming at them all to leave. She wished they would just leave so she could be weak for a moment, so she could cry her heart out – just for a moment. Jaime placed his hand on her shoulder then but she made no move to register that he had even touched her.

"We should go," he murmured.

"You go, I'm staying with him," she said firmly.

"I don't mean from the crypts … I mean from here," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked him sharply, shrugging away from him and turning to face him.

"This place … what is the point Cersei?" he asked her.

"The point is my son is King!" she spat at him.

"For how much longer?" he asked her and she slapped him with all her strength.

"How could you say that? He is your _son!_" she hissed at him.

"I didn't mean that he would die … I just think we would be better off out of it," he said.

"And what? Go crawling back to father?!" she demanded.

"Gods no!" he shook his head, "Let's just take Tommen and Myrcella and flee … we could go anywhere … across the Narrow Sea!"

"Have you lost your mind?" she whispered.

"Think about it," he urged her, "any day now the Capitol could be overthrown and when it is we will all be lost with it"

"Don't be so ridiculous Jaime … we can't leave … we just can't," she shook her head.

"Think about it," he said again, grasping her shoulders.

She opened her mouth, unsure of what she was even going to say, closing it again and looking at Jaime in despair. He bent his head to kiss her then and she could do nothing but respond to him. Kissing him reminded her that she was alive, it made her feel something other than the utter numbness that had consumed her since Joffrey had been taken. He grabbed her closer and she deepened their kiss, losing herself for a blissful moment. The sound of footsteps broke through the bliss though and she shoved him away at once just before a guard rounded the corner.

"Forgive me your Grace, Lord Tywin Lannister has arrived and has requested your presence," he said.

Cersei merely nodded curtly at the guard and he bowed lowly before turning and walking away. She dared not even look at Jaime, she just walked away from him without a word and he sighed heavily at her retreating back before he followed on after her. He wanted to say something reassuring to her as they climbed the steps up to the keep but no words came. She had been so different and so distant lately and he knew it was because of Joffrey but she had never pushed him away before and it almost physically hurt him not being able to be near her. He steeled himself then as she paused for a moment before pushing open the door of the council chambers where their father was bound to be.

"Well you've certainly been busy," he said scathingly as soon as she walked in.

"Father," she greeted evenly.

"Imagine my surprise when I heard a fire had started at Winterfell," he said.

"Imagine," she repeated softly.

"Nothing to do with you I suppose?" he said, his eyes boring into hers.

"Joffrey wanted rid of the girl and I agreed … she was a threat," she said defiantly.

"Not as much as twenty thousand Northman are a threat," he snapped at her.

"They don't know it was deliberate," she said, shaking her head.

"Yet," he shot back and she swallowed hard.

"Do you have to do this? Her son has just died," Jaime put in then.

"And her other children will follow if she continues being so foolish!" he spat, "We are clinging on by our fingertips, we can only be thankful that Renly is dead and the Tyrell's want to ally with us"

"What?!" Cersei said sharply.

"Tommen will be betrothed to Margaery Tyrell," Tywin said.

"No," she said.

"It wasn't a question," he snapped.

"She was the Queen to a traitor!" she hissed at him.

"And now she will be Queen to Tommen, they say she is still a maid and with Renly's habits perhaps it's true … and quite frankly I care not either way," he told her, "we need men more than Tommen needs a virgin, he will marry Margaery Tyrell and that is final!"

* * *

_Bitterbridge_

* * *

Loras scanned the area as the men began putting up their tents for the night. His father and grandmother had thankfully retreated to their own tents and he had told Margaery to be ready. It wasn't ideal, this plan, but it was the only one he had and it was his sister's only chance to get away and save the child inside her. He saw Brienne then and nodded slightly to her, she inclined her own head back before he saw her turn and walk towards the undergrowth. There were two horses saddled on the other side laden with supplies. There should be more than enough to get them to the North, all they had to do was cut cross country to the God's Eye lake and then take the King's Road all the way to Winterfell. It would be up to him then to make sure the search parties were sent the wrong way. With a bit of luck no one would notice Margaery was missing until the morning, by that time she and Brienne should have put safe distance behind them.

Brienne was the only one he could trust with his sister, she had loved Renly, been reduced to tears when he had named her as part of his Kingsguard. She had loved Renly as Loras had and he had known that she would do anything to ensure his name and his legacy lived on. He could only hope the woman would be enough to shield Margaery from harm. His sister was sweet and gentle and had no clue how to swing a sword or wield a bow. He shuddered at the thought of her being in a situation where she would even need to but quickly shook his head to clear it. Now wasn't the time for morbid thoughts, now was the time for clear thinking. The wind flapped the banners above the tents then and he moved his eyes to Margaery's and began to walk towards it, saying a prayer to the seven as he approached. She pulled back the flap at once when he hissed her name and he stepped inside, seeing her dressed plainly as he had told her, her clothes warm and thick for travelling. She had furs ready to pull on as well and a cloak. With her finery gone she could just about pass as a commoner. Her hair was braided back from her face and her eyes were wide as she looked between him and the entrance to the tent nervously.

"Is it time?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Brienne is ready," he replied just as quietly.

"You're sure we can trust her?" she asked him for the thousandth time.

"I'm sure," he promised her.

"I'm scared Loras," she confessed then and he stepped towards her and crushed her into his arms.

"If you want to save the baby you have to go … it's the only way," he whispered.

"I know," she agreed, nodding against him, her voice stronger now.

"Come on, we need to get moving," he said and she pulled away from him to pull on her cloak and furs.

He managed to smile for her then and she returned it, albeit thinly. After he had checked to see that no one was around he gestured for her to follow him and she did as he bid, pulling up the hood of the cloak as they walked briskly through the near silent camp. Loras had made sure the lookouts were positioned at the opposite end, paying off those that would have been nearer when Margaery would depart from. He had warned Brienne already to start off slowly so the hooves of the horses would not alert anyone. They saw no one as they approached the undergrowth, the only sounds the snores of the men and distant shouts from the other side of camp. He shoved Margaery through the shrubbery ahead of him and followed after her, forcing a smile for the waiting Brienne.

"Ready your Grace?" Brienne asked and Margaery nodded.

"Best you don't call me that from now on," she said and Brienne smiled reassuringly.

"I'll call you Meg as we agreed," Brienne promised.

"Take care of her," Loras said warningly.

"I swore an oath to Renly and now I have sworn myself to protect his child … I won't fail you," she promised him and he nodded.

"You'd best go," he said then, turning to Margaery as Brienne mounted her horse.

"Thank you for this," she whispered and he stepped closer.

"I loved him," he whispered, "I want him to live on and I want you to be safe"

"I love you Loras," she said, blinking rapidly as her eyes stung, "I will never forget this"

"Just don't forget to tell the baby about their uncle," he tried to joke.

"Every day until I see you again," she promised him, gripping his hands tightly.

"Go Margaery … go," he said and she nodded.

He pulled her against him then, murmuring into her hair that he loved her before he wrenched away from her and helped her up onto her horse. She managed another smile for him then and he nodded to her, backing away into the shadows of the undergrowth as she and Brienne kicked their horses into motion and began to slowly fade away from his sight.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"They have found nothing?" Catelyn asked incredulously.

"Nothing," Ned confirmed heavily.

"He can't have just vanished!" she said, shaking her head and he sighed.

Jon had been gone three days and even though Ned had sent the few men he could spare out scouring the land for him there had been no trace of him. Robb and Theon had even been riding out to all their old haunts in the wolfswood but they had seen to sign of him either and Ned could see the guilt rising higher in his son every day. He seemed to think that he was partly responsible for Jon taking off but Ned knew that it was he himself who was the culprit. Catelyn did her best to comfort him but he could not shake off the feeling that he had not only betrayed Jon but Lyanna as well. He had promised her that he would keep her son safe and yet now he had no clue where he was. The door burst open then and Robb almost fell through it. Usually Ned would have scolded him for coming into his and Catelyn's chambers without knocking but his words failed him as he saw the letter clenched in his fist.

"What news?" he asked instead and Catelyn turned her own eyes on him.

"Jory," Robb started, out of breath from his run, "has Bran and … Arya at … Flint's Finger"

"Thank the Gods!" Catelyn cried but Ned frowned.

"And Sansa," he said lowly and he saw Robb pale as he shook his head.

"Where is she?!" Catelyn demanded at once as Ned snatched the letter from Robb.

"He says she slipped away and he couldn't find her … when the bells tolled for the King he knew he had to get out before Bran and Arya were discovered as well," Robb told her and her eyes welled with tears.

"He left her," she whispered, "he left her in that place … all alone …"

"I don't think he had a choice Cat," Ned said in a pained voice, "if Jory had continued searching for her he could have been caught and then all three of them would be stuck there"

"But …" she started.

"I will get her home Cat, I don't know how but I will," he promised her, crushing her against his chest as she broke down in tears.

* * *

She was late. Theon sighed heavily, usually she was never late and he frowned as he tapped his foot impatiently against the grass, his eyes fixed on the tree where he had carved their names. He smiled slightly then, likely she would have a good excuse and be more than willing to make up for her tardiness. One thing he couldn't deny about Adele – she was always eager to please. He heard her soft footsteps behind him then and his smile widened. Finally. He turned to face her then, intending to make some jape about her lateness but the words died on his tongue as he took in her appearance. She'd been crying and her lip was trembling in a way that told him she was ready to start again at any given moment.

"Adele?" he whispered, coming forward to take her hands in his.

"It's over Theon," she told him, taking a great shuddering breath when the words left her mouth.

"What?" he frowned, his hands tightening around hers.

"I'm to be married," she whispered then, her voice shaking.

"What?" he repeated.

"He's a Ser," she said, swallowing hard, "he is part of the town watch in Torrhen's Square … they say he is very good, that one day he will likely make Captain. He's a good match"

"A good match?" Theon repeated, "You can't … you can't marry him – you love me!"

"It's not my choice Theon!" she burst out, wrenching her hands from his grip.

"I'm going to speak to your father," he said, making to pound away from her but she grabbed him back.

"No!" she exclaimed, "No! You can't tell him about us, he would be furious with me!"

"You can't marry some Ser from Torrhen's Square! You belong with me, your father will understand once I tell him how much I …" he gabbled.

"No Theon!" she cut him off, "Even if you asked him to consider you he would say no!"

"Why?!" he demanded, "Because I'm not a Ser? I could be one day Adele and I'm part of the guard here … I could rise through the ranks!"

"Theon stop it!" she said desperately.

"Just give me one good reason?!" he retorted.

"Because you're not good enough!" she screamed before bursting into tears.

"For you?" he whispered incredulously.

"For him," she choked, "he won't tolerate your name Theon … he would never even consider letting me become a Greyjoy"

He stepped back from her a little then as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. What he wanted was to put his arms around her and comfort her but how could he when she had stood in front of him and told him she was to marry another man? She was supposed to love him but all she had done was rebuff his own want to marry her. Surely her father would want her to be happy, no matter what his name was? Surely?

"Is this really about your father?" he asked her quietly.

"What else?" she sobbed out, lifting her head from her hands.

"Maybe you want to marry him," he said.

"I don't even know him," she shook her head, "I love you … you know I do!"

"I thought I did … but you refuse to even let me try," he said, shaking his head.

"I'm stopping you going to my father because I know he would never allow it, and the second he finds out about us he will send me away at once!" she almost shouted.

"You said it was over," he said.

"It has to be!" she insisted, "But I can't leave you … not yet … I just can't"

"Don't ever leave me," he begged her, coming to take hold of her hands again.

"Theon …" she almost moaned in frustration.

"Marry me instead," he implored her.

"Have you not just been listening to me?!" she demanded.

"No one would have to know … not until it's done and it's too late," he insisted.

"In secret?" she questioned him, her eyes wide.

"What's the alternative? Live without one another and regret it forever?" he asked desperately.

"He would be so angry …" she whispered.

"For a time," he agreed, "but he would come around … you're his daughter, he loves you"

"I don't know Theon …" she bit down on her lip and he closed his eyes and sighed heavily.

"That man would never be able to love you like I do … he knows nothing about you. He doesn't know that you get two creases between your brows when you're remembering something. He doesn't know that you can't walk straight after a few glasses of wine but drink ale like a man. He doesn't know how you liked to be touched," he brought one of his hands from hers so he could caress her cheek, "how you like to be kissed," he continued, leaning in to brush his lips lightly across her neck; "he doesn't know what your favourite flowers are or what your favourite smell is. He doesn't know that you make up all your dance steps because you hate the proper ones … he doesn't know any of that Adele and he can never know because you need to stay here with me. You _belong _with me," he stressed.

Adele stared at him then and he let his hand twitch around hers, keeping his other hand cupped around her cheek as she just gazed at him for the longest time. He kept eye contact with her, silently willing her to give in and agree to become his wife. It was foolish, it was reckless but he couldn't care less because once she was his that was it. Once it was done it could not be undone and it wouldn't matter what any man said because they would have pledged themselves to the Gods and there would be no going back. He wouldn't want to go back. He wouldn't need to go back because he would have her with him for the rest of his days.

"Please," he finally whispered.

"Yes," she nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks again.

"Yes?" he checked and she nodded more vigorously, words failing her as he pulled her against his chest.

"I promise you, I will love you forever and you will never regret this," he swore to her.

"I love you too," she managed to whisper back to him.

"Tomorrow," he murmured against her hair then, kissing the top of her head.

"Tomorrow," she agreed, her arms tightening around him.

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

"No fire tonight," Benjen said quietly and the man behind him sighed and dropped the wood.

"It's freezing," Erik stated.

"Would you rather be dead?" Benjen asked him.

"No," he sulked.

"Come here to the edge, carefully now," Benjen said and a few of them inching forwards.

They took up the same position as Benjen, shuffling to the edge of the ledge on their stomachs and looking down into the valley below them. It had been three days up in this mountain cave with little food and no fire and they still had no idea what they were waiting for. Benjen had insisted they stay in the cave during the day and only venture onto the ledge outside at night. For the last two nights there had been nothing but blackness but tonight when they shuffled to his side they could see faint flames bobbing in the distance.

"What is it?" Daron asked.

"Wildlings?" Gren questioned and Benjen nodded.

"Aye, wildlings," Benjen confirmed.

"There's wildlings everywhere," Erik said, "what's special about these ones?"

"They're going somewhere," Benjen said.

"Where?" Gren asked.

"If I knew that I wouldn't be here," he replied.

"Are we going to follow them?" Erik asked.

"I'm hoping it won't come to that," Benjen told them.

"Then what?" Daron questioned.

"Hush and listen, they don't know we're here," Benjen said.

"You're hoping they'll give a clue?" Gren asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"If we're lucky, aye," he answered just as quietly.

They all fell silent then, even the odd shuffle of the others in the cave stopped and Benjen knew that they must have been listening to him as well. Gods he hoped these wildlings had mouths on them, most did. All he needed was some clue as to what they were up to. Whatever it was he would bet it would have something to do with Mance Rayder and just thinking about the deserter had his fists clenching. Bad enough he had left the Night's Watch but knowing he was now gathering wildlings to him made Benjen beyond uneasy. Mance was setting himself up as some kind of King and Benjen wanted to know exactly what he intended to do with this army he was gathering.

"… late … won't have … Mance … giants," he made out over the wind.

"… listen … won't … march," Benjen inched forwards even more and strained his ears.

"… you think … the Wall … down south," his heart pounded.

"… anyone can … Mance can," the flames of their torches were bobbing just beneath them now.

"… crows … never see it coming … will fall," Benjen seemed to hold his breath.

He caught another few odd words over the howling gale but he didn't really need to hear anymore. He had heard enough to piece it together. Mance was gathering the wildlings to him because he was planning to attack the Wall. His heart pounded as he slowly retreated backwards towards the cave as the torches bobbed away into the distance. He put his hands to his head. Gods he hoped he had imagined one of them saying _giants. _It didn't matter anyway, they had said enough for him to work it out and now the threat of the walkers seemed to be the least of his troubles. He hadn't seen any sign of them since Craster's Keep although the memory of seeing that creature with the babe in its arms haunted his dreams. He shook his head to clear it and saw his brothers looking at him expectantly. A long sigh left his mouth then as he tried to work out exactly how many men Mance would be able to gather. It would be tens of thousands at least and that was without considering the giants which his mind was not quite ready to accept yet. He swept his eyes over the pale faces that were waiting for him to speak then and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"We're heading back to the Wall," he said.

"Truly?" more than one of them piped up hopefully.

"Aye," he nodded grimly.

"Do you know what this Mance Rayder has planned then?" Gren asked him.

"I think I do," he nodded again.

"What?" Erik asked and the silence that fell around them was crushing.

"I think he is planning to lead the wildlings into battle," he told them, "I think he means to launch an attack upon the Wall."

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts would be amazing. More soon!

:)


	23. Encounters

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Hope you all enjoy it.

Your thoughts as always would be very much appreciated!

:)

* * *

**Encounters**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Her father had crept in just before dawn, she had heard the creak of the floorboards out in the hallway before his door had clicked shut. He had been on the night watch and Adele waited, not daring to move in her bed until the first shards of light filtered through her window. She hadn't closed the drapes when she had gone to bed so that when dawn came it would wake her. As it happened she had barely slept, her mind racing as she thought of what she and Theon were going to do. It was beyond foolish and her father would be beyond angry when he found out but Theon was right, they couldn't live without one another now. She loved Theon. Perhaps if she gave it a chance she could love the man she was supposed to be marrying but the truth was she didn't want to give it a chance. She wanted Theon and as she climbed out of bed as quietly as she could her heart pounded at the thought that soon enough she would have what she wanted.

Adele dressed quickly and brushed her hair through. She imagined when she was a girl that she would spend hours preparing for her wedding and making sure she looked as beautiful as she possibly could. The day had come though and she stood in a plain blue dress that matched her eyes with her curls hung loose down her back. She scrutinized herself in the mirror and sighed. It would have to do, she dare not linger in case her father woke and caught her. If she was going to do this she would have to do it now. She reminded herself over and over that she loved Theon as she made her way to her bedroom door, her heart pounding as she slipped out with as little noise as possible. As she made her way lightly across the hallway she seemed to hold her breath, praying to the Gods that she didn't tread on the creaking floorboard. When she reached the steps she darted deftly down them, letting out her breath when she reached the bottom. She paused, listening for a long minute for any sign of her father waking before she walked to the front door and let herself out into the chilly morning air.

She shuddered slightly, walking quickly through the street and seeing no one as she turned up to head towards the Godswood. Even the baker had not yet risen and she was glad of it, she didn't want anyone seeing her today. Likely her father would sleep in until late morning and not question why she was already gone from the house. He was happy for her to come and go as she pleased but she imagined he would have been less than happy if he had known where she had been going all these months. He assumed she was with Dany or Serra and she never corrected him. She was at the entrance to the Godswood now and she took a deep breath to compose herself before she entered, her nerves easing somewhat as she saw Theon already there with the Septon who would witness their vows. Theon's own face broke out into a relieved smile as she approached and she somehow knew that part of him had worried that she wouldn't come. He took her hand as she reached him and nodded to the Septon. This was it.

* * *

Theon could scarce believe it as they hurried along the cobblestone streets, their fingers laced together as he pulled her along. The town was beginning to stir now and he wanted his wife safely indoors before anyone spotted them. _His wife. _Gods he could not believe that he, Theon Greyjoy, had a wife. The thought had always been a negative one, he had never wanted to be tied to one woman but here he was, pulling her up to the door and fumbling in his doublet for the key. He had asked Lord Stark if he could take a house in the town now that he was part of the guard, telling him he wanted to settle properly at Winterfell. If the man had been surprised he hadn't shown it and he had thankfully granted Theon's request. Now he and Adele had a marital home that was all theirs and he could not wait to get her inside so they could truly begin their marriage.

"Where are we?" she asked him as he turned the key in the lock.

"Home," he told her and her eyes widened as he pushed open the door, gesturing for her to go inside.

There was not much at the moment but Adele could see the potential as her eyes roamed the large ground floor room. It served as a kitchen, dining and living area with a fire oven for cooking and a scrubbed down table with four chairs. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall with a fur rug in front of it and two comfortable chairs. She imagined adding some shelves and getting some pretty drapes to hang up in the window. She imagined a baby laying on the rug in front of the fire, kicking its little legs as Theon tickled at its belly. A smile spread across her face then as she turned to face her husband who was watching her take it all in with an uncertain look in his eye.

"I know it's not much …" he started.

"It's more than enough," she cut him off, stepping towards him and laying a hand on his chest.

"I had the smith make another key so you can come and go as you please until we decide to tell everyone," he said and she nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she smiled, "now … why don't you show me our bedchamber?"

He didn't need telling twice, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her up the narrow, winding staircase to the small landing on top. There were three doors, one that led to their room, the other to a smaller bedchamber and the third was a washroom. Adele could explore the rest of the house later though, right now he wanted her full attention in their bedchamber and he expected he wouldn't be letting her leave it for hours at least. She barely had a chance to take in more that the comfortable looking bed that dominated most of the room before Theon's lips crashed into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth and causing a low moan to sound at the back of her throat.

Gods he loved that sound, it may be his favourite sound in the entire world. It was either that or the sound of her crying out his name when he made her come to her height. Her hands found the lacings of his doublet then and he shrugged out of it when she had loosened it before his own hands came to her laces and tugged on them. Her dress fell heavily to the floor then and he broke their kiss as she loosened his shirt, pulling away slightly to he could tug it up over his head, his eyes raking over her body that was now clad only in a shift. She kicked her dainty little shoes away then before meeting his eyes as he stepped slowly back towards her, his hand reaching out to pull the ties of her shift loose. When it too fell to the floor he let his eyes roam her naked body hungrily, finally taking in all of her, his breeches suddenly feeling uncomfortably tight. Adele swallowed hard as she watched him unlace himself, she had seen him uncovered before but never like this, never all at once. She backed towards the bed as he pulled off his boots and breeches, flinging the latter against the door as she lowered herself down onto the soft sheets and furs.

He was with her in an instant, crawling up her body and trailing kisses up and along her inner thigh, dipping his tongue into her waiting warmth, causing her to arch her back into him. He lingered long enough to make her moan wantonly before he continued his journey up her body, his hands coming to rest on her thighs and gently pull them further apart so he could nestle between them. She couldn't help the sudden tension that gripped her body as she felt him hard against her inner thigh, knowing that he would soon be taking her maidenhead. He felt her tension and pressed his body closer to hers, his lips trailing along her neck up to her cheek and down towards her lips. She kissed him back, their tongues dancing slowly with one another and he felt her body relax as one of his hands rubbed up and down her thigh, coaxing her legs up around his waist. He let his length rub between her legs then, coating himself with her arousal and causing a moan to leave her. They had never got this close before, he had never let himself, knowing if he had moved himself against her like this he would have ended up inside her. The temptation would have been too much. Now though, now he could be inside her because he was her husband and she was his wife. Just remembering that made his heart pound as he continued rubbing against her, preparing her as best he could.

When Theon shifted himself above her she knew that this was it, that he would finally claim her for his own, consummating their marriage and making it so the wedding could not be undone. The thought had scared her slightly the night before but now she was here with him in this room she could not even remember what she had been afraid of. She felt him then, felt his length pressing into her and she gasped against his lips as he began to push down ever so slowly. This was different entirely from the feel of his fingers inside her, this was all new and strange to her and she bit down on her lip when she felt the sting of him tearing through her maidenhead. Still he slid slowly into her until he filled her completely, making no move to rock his hips yet as his eyes searched for hers. She gazed up at him, her eyes thankfully dry; a trace of discomfort on her face but no tears and no cry of pain leaving her lips. Her hands wandered slowly up his arms then, coming to rest on his shoulders, rubbing lightly across them as he remained still inside her.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she breathed back and at her words he bent to kiss her, finally letting his body move.

The first time he thrust she felt the dull, throbbing ache but when he made to move again and then again the pain seeped away into an almost nothing that she could easily ignore as the pleasure far outstripped it. Theon groaned against her lips as he continued on, her warmth feeling so good surrounding him as he thrust slowly, wanting her to get used to him; not wanting to hurt her any more than he had to. Her nails pinched slightly in his shoulders as she moved her own hips up to meet his pace and he groaned again, shifting her thigh higher up on his waist. She gasped in surprise and pleasure on his next thrust, feeling him touch something inside her which had her stomach coiling in familiar knots. He could sense her release coming, his fingers digging into the skin of her thigh as he continued moving slowly and deeply inside her. Her own nails pinched even harder into his shoulders then but the sting of them felt good, but not as good as her tightening further around him as he pushed her closer and closer. Her breathing was ragged, her breath hitching in her throat, small cries leaving her now each time he touched that perfect part. He groaned out as he willed his body to hold on, feeling and hearing her come to her end in the next moment, his name sounding so beautiful on her lips. It was seconds before he was with her, spilling himself into her and collapsing down against her, both of them breathing hard as they lay completely entwined and exhausted.

* * *

"There you are," Robb's voice sounded behind her and Dany turned to send him a swift smile.

"Were you looking for me?" she asked as she turned back to the dragon she had been trying to tempt with various meats.

"I was," he said, placing his hands on her hips and rolling his eyes as the dragon hissed at him.

It had become very clear, very quickly that the dragons did not take to just anyone. His father had been bitten, Ser Rodrik had his fingers burned and his mother refused point blank to go anywhere near them. Robb had persevered with them for Dany's sake, none of them had harmed him in any way but they made him feel thoroughly uneasy with their beady eyes and sharp little talons. He put up with them hissing and spitting at him for Dany because she absolutely adored them, fussing over them as though they were adorable, chubby little babes. The feeling seemed to be mutual, the dragons always chirruping away happily in her presence and nuzzling their heads against her hand whenever she petted them. The only other person they seemed to tolerate was Rickon but they had hissed at him a few times when he had dared bring Shaggy Dog into their presence. Grey Wind refused to even enter the part of the kennels they were housed in and Robb didn't bother trying to force him, leaving him to sit sulking outside instead.

"What did you need me for?" Dany asked then, catching his attention.

"This," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling against her neck.

"Is that all?" she giggled.

"Do you want more?" he asked her, nipping at her skin and making her gasp in pleasure.

"Always," she breathed and he trailed kisses up to her cheek.

She turned her head then so he could claim her lips that he could still not get enough of. The feel of her and the taste of her was all so overwhelming and all-consuming and he could not ever imagine a day dawning where he didn't want her. His heart pounded as he pulled away slightly, reminding himself that they were not wed just yet. They would be though and just thinking of it made his heart feel like it would burst right through his chest.

"There was something," he breathed.

"Go on," she urged him.

"I can't wait for you," he said.

"Robb …" she started.

"I think we should get married as soon as we can," he said and she pulled back further.

"Without Jon?" she questioned.

"If we have to," he said regretfully, "I can't stand you not being mine, every day you are not my wife is a day wasted"

"Then let's do it," she smiled.

"Truly?" he asked, his own lips quirking up.

"Truly," she confirmed, pecking his lips, "not being your wife is killing me."

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

They'd risked a fire and now they were going to pay for it.

Benjen unsheathed his sword as he heard the rustle in the trees. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up as he prayed to the Gods that it was wildlings and not the walkers that were readying themselves to ambush them. Around him his brothers all readied their own weapons, their eyes darting about uneasily in the darkness trying to locate the point of attack. An arrow rushed a whisper passed Benjen's cheek then and hit one of his men square in the chest. He fell to his knees with a roar of pain, slumping forward in the next instant and Benjen knew he was dead. A heartbeat later he knew they were in big trouble as a group of at least fifty wildlings came at them. Arrows flew every which way and Benjen and his men did their best to dodge them whilst engaging the wildlings in combat. Two fell dead at Benjen's feet before he whirled around to clash swords with a third, seeing that at least four of his own men were already dead. He had no time to guess how many wildlings they had bested as his new opponent posed much more of a challenge than his last two.

Their steel clashed hard against one another and for the first time in days Benjen actually felt warm as he battled the man. He hoped to Gods that the sound of this fight would not draw any unwanted attention from beings that neither the black brothers nor the wildlings could fight.

"Fucking crows!"

"Die bastards!"

"Fucking wildlings!"

Shouts and screams, threats and obscenities rose up from both sides of the clash as the fighting grew more frenzied and ferocious. Finally the man Benjen had been up again made the slightest mistake which allowed him the time to drive his sword hard into his stomach, ramming it so hard into him that the steel came out the other side. Blood gushed warm over his hands as he had to bring up his knee to help wrench his sword back out of the dead man. He swept his eyes over the scene again then and saw that there were barely any left standing on either side. Bren was desperately trying to fend off one of the remaining wildlings but Benjen could see he was almost bested so he charged up behind the wildling and stabbed him in the back. Perhaps it wasn't the most noble way to kill a man but right now it was kill or be killed and Benjen could not afford to lose any more men. There was a final dying scream then and Benjen turned to see the last wildling fall dead before he reached his hand out to pull Bren to his feet, both of them breathing hard. There was only one other standing; Erik, and he looked to be clutching his arm, blood dripping onto the snow.

"Look for any more survivors," Benjen ordered, "I'll see to him"

"What about the wildlings?" Bren asked him.

"Deliver them a quick death if any still breathe," he said and Bren nodded.

"How bad is it?" Benjen asked Erik then.

"Little more than a scratch," he panted.

"It'll need to be bandaged up, quick now, before any more of them come," Benjen told him.

Erik removed his cloak and furs, shivering as he stripped right down to his shirt and pulled aside the sleeve so Benjen could see what damage was done. It wasn't that deep, more than a scratch but he was almost certain that Erik would live. He wouldn't be much good at swinging a sword for a time though and he prayed that they would not run into any more large groups of wildlings, nor anything else for that matter. _No more fires, _he promised himself before realising that they would have to light an almighty fire to get rid of the bodies. Now that he knew the walkers were all too real he would have to make sure any bodies were burned so they could not be reanimated. They had just killed a living band of wildlings, he didn't fancy taking them on again dead, knowing that dead they would be joined by his fallen brothers.

"Pile the bodies up," he said to Bren then and he nodded.

They both moved to drag them into one sickening pile then and Benjen closed his eyes for a moment and said a silent prayer for the souls of his fallen brothers before he took the oil that Erik had brought from their supplies and poured it all over the heap of dead. Bren lit a torch from the dying embers of their fire then and brought it forward, handing it to Benjen without a word before retreating to stand with Erik. Benjen took a deep breath before bringing the torch down to the bodies which ignited at once, he tossed the torch into the midst of the flames before he too walked away. Bren and Erik fell into step with him as they made for the trees. It would do no good to be seen now with a huge beacon pointing to where they had recently been. It was a long journey back to the Wall but they had to make it, the Watch needed to be warned that an attack was coming and that the walkers had risen again. They would need help from the seven kingdoms to fight them off and Benjen could only pray that they would listen and come to their aid.

* * *

_Woodland, near the Last River_

* * *

Jon staggered slightly through the trees, clinging to the bottle in his hand. He had sold his horse for wine, he imagined when he sobered up he would realise what a fucking stupid thing to do that had been. Right now he didn't care though because right now his head was in a state of fuzzy bliss where he could forget all about being a bastard Targaryen and forget all about being a dishonourable shit. He had no idea where he was stumbling to, his feet had left the King's Road sometime that morning and the sun had long since set. He could hear the clink of more wine bottles in the knapsack on his back and figured he had enough that he wouldn't miss his horse for a good few days at least. The sound of running water drew his attention then and he let his feet stumble further towards it. If he had been sober he imagined he would know which river or stream he was coming upon but right now he knew nothing. Knowing nothing was fun. Knowing nothing was wonderful. Knowing nothing meant he couldn't feel any pain or sense of betrayal.

He could have snorted then. Who was he fooling? Not himself that was for sure and there was no one else in this Gods forsaken woods. Getting drunk had seemed like a wonderful idea when he had come across that inn. He had asked them for work and they had told him he could chop up firewood. It had been quite satisfying driving an axe through the wood over and over again but it soon grew boring and his mind soon wandered back to Winterfell. He hadn't wanted to think of Winterfell though and so he had taken to drink instead. First the strong ale and when that had started to churn his stomach he had gone onto the wine. He had intended to stay longer at the inn but that was before he emptied the contents of his stomach over the bar and the inn keep had thrown him out in the early morning. Somehow through the haze he managed to swap his horse for as much wine as would fit in his knapsack and staggered along on his merry way.

He would regret selling that horse eventually but not yet. The sounds of the water were rushing closer now and he frowned slightly as he imagined he could hear voices over it. Surely not. Who would want to be out here at this time? Jon was sure he was hearing them in his head, perhaps the wine had driven him to madness then. He really did snort then and before he knew it he was laughing. That would be the Targaryen blood then, sending him mad. Gods what hope did he have, out here in the freezing cold of the northern countryside hearing voices? Could it get any worse? As he thought that he stumbled out of the woodland and blinked rather rapidly as he took in the scene in front of him. Where in the Gods was he? The bulk of the northern army had been sent down to the border hadn't it? Had he accidently gone south instead of north? No … surely he couldn't have been that drunk, could he? He forced his eyes to focus then, his vision still swimming as he tried to make out the banners that were fluttering in the night. One caught the light of a fire then and he blinked again. He was seeing things. There were no Targaryen's. Unless he counted Dany. And himself, he thought bitterly. There were certainly no Targaryen's with armies and yet there was the three headed dragon on the background of black waving happily in the chilly wind.

A sober Jon probably would have turned and fled. Drunk Jon took several steps closer and was completely oblivious to the shouts of the men and the pounding footsteps approaching him. Sober Jon probably would have fought harder against them when the pulled the sack over his head and dragged him blindly to the Gods knew where. Drunk Jon was more concerned that they might search his knapsack and steal all his wine. Sober Jon might have shouted and sworn at them and demanded to know what in the name of the Gods they were doing. Drunk Jon made no protest as they shoved him to the ground, his head lifting feebly for a moment before he let it slump back to the floor and let the darkness consume him.

* * *

**A/N: **Thoughts would be most awesome! Hope you all enjoyed that, will have another one for you in a few days.

:)


	24. Guilt

**A/N:** Hey guys, new chapter for you all!

**Star Fox mk1:** Thanks for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope you enjoy this new update. My Jon is slightly different from canon Jon so maybe that's why the reaction isn't what you expected. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Thoughts as always my lovely readers would be much appreciated!

:)

* * *

**Guilt**

* * *

_Stony Sept _

* * *

The town that was usually so busy by day had few night time wanders and Sandor was glad of it as he and the Stark girl rode through it to the outskirts where he knew there was an inn they could rest at where for the right price no questions could be asked. Most nights they had spent out in the wilds and the Stark girl had shivered herself to sleep each night, even the presence of her wolf at her side hadn't seemed to warm her and Sandor had actually thought that she may die before they even made it to the Riverlands. He had worked out a few days into their journey north that there was no chance in the seven hells of them making it all the way to Winterfell. With that in mind he had considered the Eyrie and Riverrun, wondering which of her mother's siblings would be most likely to take the girl in. His first thought had been the Eyrie, Lysa Arryn was a mother herself and would surely pay the gold? Then he remembered that she was said to be quite mad and considered the pain in the arse it would be to actually make it through the Vale. That left Riverrun and her grandfather. Hostor Tully was supposed to be on his death bed, his son Edmure having taken over the running of the place. Hopefully the man took his house words seriously, Sandor sincerely hoped he did as he glanced at the Stark girl. She was paler than a corpse, her lips faintly blue. The sooner he got her inside the better.

Thankfully the direwolf, Lady, stupid name for such an animal, took one look at the inn and turned tail. Likely the beast would catch up with them when they got on with their journey again in the morning, preferably after a good hot meal. Sandor helped the fragile girl down from her horse and half carried her through the door, ignoring everyone in the inn and steering her right to a seat in front of the fire. She slumped down into it and he frowned at her for a moment before letting his eyes wander the room. There were few people around, those few who had not yet retired paid them no mind. A few of them seemed to have passed out at their tables and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could take them all down but he was rather pleased he wouldn't have to. Right now he wanted a belly full of ale and food and so he approached the inn keep and asked for as much hot food and strong ale as he could muster up. The man obliged him, looking as though all his name days had come at once as Sandor slammed down the coin, watching him bustle into the kitchen before he made his own way to sit with the Stark girl.

She ate slowly and carefully when the food came as Sandor guzzled down his own fill, washing it down with great gulps of strong ale. The girl took none for herself and he took another long drink before lowering the flagon and contemplating her for a long moment. There was some colour in her cheeks now, perhaps she would make it to Riverrun after all. He could see the haunted look in her eyes though and despite telling himself he was only in it for the gold he found himself wondering exactly what it was that was troubling her so.

"You should eat more," he told her gruffly.

"I've had enough," she said in a weary voice.

"You'll regret it tomorrow," he told her but she merely shrugged.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked after a moment.

"I told you," he said, "Riverrun"

"Why not Winterfell?" she frowned.

"Because I doubt you'd live that long," he said honestly and she didn't look phased by his words.

"I should have gone with Jory … stupid Sansa," she hissed under her breath then.

"You'll get home, the Tully's will see to that," he said.

"My father will be angry," she said.

"I doubt that," he said.

"I disobeyed him, maybe that's why he left me at the Capitol, to teach me a lesson," she said.

"Don't be fucking stupid," he growled out.

"It's all my fault," she said then and he frowned.

"All what?" he questioned.

"Septa Mordane … Jeyne … where is Jeyne? Even Joffrey," she told him in a slightly dazed manner.

"That little prick was responsible, not you," he said.

"I have all this guilt inside me," she confessed then, her eyes meeting his.

"You made the wrong decision, plenty have done that but you paid the price … a high price," he said.

"Do you think they'll want me back?" she whispered.

"Of course they'll want you back," he said incredulously, "Gods girl, has the south turned you soft in the head?!"

"Perhaps," she said and he saw a tiny smile grace her lips.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and eat some more food, you need your strength," he growled.

She gave him no reply but she did as she was told and pulled some more food towards her, he watched her for a moment, almost smiling before he caught himself and pulled his flagon of ale up to his lips again.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Adele!"

Adele looked up at the call and smiled over at Dany as she approached her with a huge smile on her face. Dany had been permanently smiling since her betrothal to Robb had been announced publically and Adele was thrilled for her, for both of them. She hadn't needed Theon to tell her that Robb and Dany harboured feelings for one another, it had been glaringly obvious from the very moment she had first seen them together at Winterfell.

"What is it?" she asked Dany then as the fair girl came closer to her.

"I had the most wonderful idea," Dany grinned at her and her curiosity was peaked.

"And what would that be?" she questioned with a smile of her own.

"Since we are both to be married soon I thought we could both go to the seamstress and have our dresses fitted together," Dany said excitedly.

"Oh," Adele said, suddenly aware of the cool metal of her wedding band that she kept on a chain and tucked down the front of her bodice.

"I thought you'd like that," Dany said, looking crestfallen.

"I do!" she protested, searching for an excuse, "It is just the coin … I'm not sure if my father …"

"If I would what?" her father's voice came from behind her then.

"I …" she stumbled over her explanation.

"I thought it would be nice if Adele and I went to the seamstress together to have our wedding gowns fitted," Dany told him.

"A wonderful idea!" Ser Ralf beamed.

"But … the coin …" Adele tried weakly.

"Don't worry about that," he assured her, "let me spoil you while I still have the chance"

"If you insist," she said, not seeing what else she could possibly say in protest.

"Come on, let's go now!" Dany said happily, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her towards the seamstress'.

Once inside Adele hovered nervously as Dany chattered away happily about the beautiful white gown she wanted and the seamstress suggested various styles that would suit her. Adele felt horrible, knowing that Dany wanted to share her excitement as a fellow bride to be but she could not find it in her to even pretend. Her heart hammered as she thought of her and Theon and the fact that soon they wouldn't be able to hide it any more. She was due to go to Torrhen's Square at the end of the month and time was running out for her to be honest and tell her father what she had done. The thought of his reaction had her cringing but still she could not find it in her to regret her secret marriage. She loved Theon, loved him more than anything and her feelings had only grown stronger since their union. Dany turned to look at her then and she tried to quickly paint a smile on her face.

"Come on … you ought to come and choose your own fabric," she insisted.

"Oh … I'm not sure just yet …" Adele said.

"Well come and have a proper look," Dany encouraged her, frowning slightly.

"I …" she took a step forward before faltering, "I can't do this … I'm sorry Dany," she managed to get out before she fled leaving a thoroughly confused Dany behind her.

* * *

Ned watched Catelyn as she conversed with Robb, seeing how his wife managed to keep a smile on her face as their conversation finished. He knew it was more than a little forced but she was determined to keep up appearances for Robb's sake. The wedding was to take place soon and both he and Dany had been practically skipping around Winterfell. Their happiness was contagious and just the thing that was needed to distract them from Sansa's continued absence and the threat of war from the south. Things seemed quiet on that front at the moment but that didn't stop Ned from being almost constantly on edge. They would get sucked into the war eventually and still he had no idea who he would march for when the time came. Sansa was the focus of his worry at the moment but he knew marching on the Capitol and demanding her back would likely just result in her death. It seemed that whatever move he considered would put her life in even more danger than it already was. News from the Capitol seemed to have fizzled out and they knew nothing of what was happening there. Ned was doing his best to find out but he was no Varys, no little birds sang for him.

He brought a smile to his own face then as Catelyn turned from her conversation with Robb, his eyes drifting to his son who was wandering out into the courtyard. At least he and Rickon were safe here and Bran and Arya would soon be brought up from Flint's Finger. He had sent a guard down for them the instant he had received the letter and he could not wait for them to get back home and ease some of his and Catelyn's worries. Once they were back they could put all their focus on Sansa and getting her home safely. Catelyn has suggested writing to Petyr Baelish for help but he had refused her at once. She may remember him fondly from her childhood and have faith in him but Ned had seen him at the Capitol and he had seen no trace of the boy Catelyn had described to him. Getting him involved would only make things worse for Sansa; that much he was sure of.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Catelyn asked him then.

"Sansa," he said and he saw the pained look cross her features.

"What can we do Ned?" she whispered.

"If I knew that I'd be doing it," he said heavily and she nodded, coming closer so he could fold her into an embrace.

They stood like that for the longest time, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist with her head leaning against his heart as his hand stroked soothingly through her hair. Counting his heartbeats sent waves of calmness washing through her and she almost managed to make herself stop imagining the worst. The thought of Sansa alone and surrounded by enemies had her constantly on the verge of breaking down but in Ned's arms she almost let herself feel reassured. He would think of something she knew he would. He always did because he was good, honourable, dependable Ned and he always came up with something. _Always. _

"Forgive me my Lord, my Lady," Ser Rodrik interrupted then and they regretfully broke apart.

"What is it?" Ned asked.

"Word has finally reached us about the Capitol," he said.

"From where?" Catelyn asked before Ned could say any more.

"From your brother, Lord Tully," Ser Rodrik nodded to her.

"What news?" Ned asked almost impatiently.

"King Joffrey is dead my Lord," he told him then and Catelyn gasped.

"How?" Ned asked weakly.

"There were riots in the city, he was killed on a procession," he said and Ned swallowed hard.

"Any news of Sansa?" he asked.

"No my Lord," Ser Rodrik said in a slightly pained voice, "I'm afraid that's all"

"Thank you," Ned forced a smile and he bowed shortly before walking away from him.

Ned turned to Catelyn then and folded her back into his arms without a word. He didn't need to ask, he had seen it in her eyes that she had realised the same thing as he had. If Joffrey had been killed on a procession then it was likely that Sansa had been on it with him as they were still formally betrothed. He tried his hardest not to picture his sweet, vulnerable daughter in the midst of all that chaos, it made him feel sick to even consider what could have befallen her.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Tyrion looked up at them, their bodies swinging in the light breeze high above the walls of the keep. A reminder to everyone of what happened when you went against the Lannister's. No one had spoken at first, not one whisper was to be found, but then his father had arrived in the Capitol and lips soon loosened. Gold talked. And Tywin Lannister had mountains of the stuff. Cersei had screamed and cried and sobbed until their father agreed to pay. Consequently six men were dead and they had died repulsively slowly. Cersei had personally seen to it that the ropes they were hung from were drawn up slowly once they had been placed around their necks. Tyrion had watched, unable to look away despite his unease, as their legs had flailed and they had choked and spluttered as the rough rope had slowly squeezed the life from them. Perhaps they deserved it. Perhaps they didn't. Joffrey had been a little shit but to be trampled and kicked and stamped to death was a cruel demise. Then again, what proof beyond the word of small folk desperate for gold was there that these men had committed the crime? They had been charged with starting the riots and regicide and not one of them had said a word in their defence.

Tyrion found that odd, but what he found odder was the behaviour of Varys. Usually the eunuch gave nothing away but when those men had been dragged before his father Tyrion could have sworn that he saw the man blanch. Just for a second. It had been nagging at him ever since, his suspicions even further peaked when the man didn't come and watch the executions. It was with all that in mind that he found himself slowly making his way to Varys' lair, hoping that he wasn't around so he could have a free run at finding something. What he was looking for he didn't know, but when he reached the thankfully empty room he went at once to the desk and began rifling through the drawers.

Nothing.

He sighed. Perhaps he had been wrong, hasty even. Perhaps all this time living with Cersei's paranoia had finally rubbed off on him. He went to push the final drawer back in then but his thumb brushed the edge of what felt like parchment on the underside of it. Tyrion bent down then and looked underneath, seeing a sheet of parchment pinned into the wood, he pulled it off carefully and unfolded it. His eyes widened as he read it. There wasn't much there but it was enough. A payment sheet, hefty payments made to a total of fifteen men. Six of the names Tyrion recognised all too well, seeing them swinging lifelessly in the breeze behind his eyes. The other nine could be anyone, and they had gotten away with murder. He took a deep breath then, staring at the names and the payments. No reason was given but Tyrion didn't need one. He knew. He knew that Varys had paid these men to start the riots that had resulted in Joffrey's death. What he couldn't understand was why.

If he was a good son, a good brother, a good man even, he would take this to his father and sister and let them pat him on the head and tell him what a clever little imp he was. That's what he should do, Joffrey was his nephew after all, albeit a spiteful, hateful little child but a child nonetheless. He sighed heavily and crushed the parchment in his hand. These men may have families of their own, sons and daughters and wives who would no doubt meet grim fates of their own without them. Revealing the list would only cause more pain and it would not bring Joffrey back. Best everyone's attention was focused on Tommen now. He walked to the fire and stared into the flames.

"Lord Tyrion, I wasn't expecting you," Varys said from the doorway.

"You ought to know better," Tyrion said, fixing him with a look.

"Excuse me?" he simpered.

"I found your little list … you've been busy," Tyrion stated and the eunuch blanched.

"My Lord …" Varys began.

"You belong to me now," Tyrion said before he threw the list into the fire.

* * *

_Targaryen Camp, near the Last River_

* * *

"Who is he?" Aegon asked.

"Some drunk," Griff replied stiffly, looking the passed out man up and down.

"What was he doing here?" he persisted.

"Likely he stumbled across us by accident, perhaps his hovel is nearby," Griff said dismissively.

"Were there any others?" Aegon asked then.

"The guards saw no one else," he told him.

"And they looked properly?" Aegon was not letting this go.

"They scoured the surrounding area, no trace of there being anyone else," Griff promised.

"I want to speak with him when he wakes up," he said.

"Really … there is no need, when he wakes we will pay him to keep his mouth shut and send him on his way," Griff sighed.

"I want to speak with him when he wakes up," he repeated more insistently.

"Fine," Griff sighed in defeat.

"Could be he might be useful," Aegon said, sweeping his eyes over him again.

"Somehow I doubt that very much," Griff sniffed.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Theon started when he pushed open the door and saw Adele bustling around the fire, adding something to the pot that was bubbling over it and emitting the most delicious smell. He had not been expecting to find her here when he returned from his shift. It had been a long day and he had anticipated coming back to a cold, empty house and forcing down some bread and cheese before passing out upstairs. Instead the fire was roaring and it was seductively warm, there was his beautiful wife fixing dinner for him and he doubted very much that he would just be sleeping when he went up to bed. She turned and fixed him with a smile then as he sat heavily in a chair and pulled off his boots.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said with a grin.

"One of the guards has taken ill so my father took on the night shift," she told him and his smile widened.

"So I have you to myself all night?" he questioned her and he saw her smile as she stirred the pot.

"You do," she confirmed.

"You didn't have to do all this," he told her.

"I'm your wife … it's about time I started acting like it," she said and he frowned slightly.

"Has something happened?" he asked her and she sighed heavily as she ladled some broth into a bowl for him.

"I saw Dany earlier," she said, handing him his dinner.

"And?" he pressed.

"She was so excited, wanting us to go and have our wedding gowns made together," she told him.

"Adele …" he sighed.

"I tried to say no but then she asked my father and I had no choice," she said, shaking her head.

"You went?" he asked, raising his brows.

"I had no choice," she repeated, "but I couldn't stand it … I felt so guilty and I had to leave"

"It won't be forever," he soothed.

"No it won't," she agreed, "we have to tell them Theon … tomorrow"

"If that's what you want," he said.

"It is," she nodded determinedly.

"Then that's what we'll do," he promised.

"Let's not think on it now, let's just have one more night of happiness," she said.

"We have a lifetime of happiness ahead of us," he returned.

"You may need to remind me of that once my father finds out," she smiled slightly.

"I'll remind you of it every day," he promised, setting his empty bowl aside.

"Do you want more?" she asked him.

"I'm not hungry," he said, standing up, "not for food anyway …"

Adele smiled at his underlying meaning and let him pull her into his arms, her head already tilting up so he could claim her lips. He didn't disappoint her, kissing her at once and making desire well up in her ever so easily. She had scarce been able to get enough of him since that first time, it was agony sleeping in an empty bed without him. It was far more preferable to her when she could sneak away and they could entwine themselves around one another and make love until they were both too exhausted to move. Then they would just lay wrapped up in one another and she would savour the precious time they had until she would inevitably have to slide unwillingly from his clutches and return home before her father grew worried or suspicious. Theon was tugging at the ties of her dress then and she let her own hands push away his doublet and loosen his shirt. When he pulled away slightly to slide her dress from her shoulders she tugged it up and over his head, letting her hands roam his bare chest.

He looked so perfect in the warm glow of the firelight and she was aching for him, her hands coming to unlace his breeches as his own swiftly untied her shift and let it fall to the floor. His lips came to her shoulder, trailing hot kisses along the bare skin of her collarbone and neck as he lowered them to the floor, shifting her so she could lay on the thick fur rug in front of the dancing fire. Her chest was heaving and he couldn't help but let his lips wander to her perfect breasts, coaxing a moan from her lips that had his length unbearably hard. His hands roamed up and down her side as he continued to tease at her breast, her own hands running firmly through his hair before she lightly scraped her nails down his back, causing him to arch into her. Another moan escaped her as she felt him hard up against her, her legs coming to wrap around his waist, his hand coming to her thigh to stroke up and down it as he positioned himself above her and pushed slowly into her.

It seemed like forever since he had last made love slowly to her, usually she only had limited time and their encounters would be wild and frantic, not that he didn't enjoy them but he wanted to savour her tonight. He wanted to make it last because he had her all night and he wanted to take in every inch of her and memorize everything about the way she looked and sounded and felt as they entwined completely with one another. He let his hips rock slowly in and out of her warmth, her own hips moving to meet his as he pressed his body as close to hers as he could manage. Adele's hands wandered the muscles of his arms and shoulders, before they moved down his back to feel the way his muscles moved as he rocked pleasure through her entire body. She dug her heels into his thighs, her back arching beneath him as he hit that perfect spot that made her want to lose all control. It was so easy being with him like this and so very right. She wasn't sure how she would ever get enough of the things he did to her and from the way he looked at her in that moment she just knew that he felt the same.

He met her deep blue eyes as he continued to move, seeing her gazing back at him, the beauty of her astounding him as he leant close enough to feel her ragged breathing on his lips. Tomorrow would be difficult but right here right now it was ever so simple as he continued to rock his hips, feeling her chest rising and falling against his own as he pressed so close to her. Somehow he managed to tear his eyes from hers, leaning even closer so he could capture her lips. They wrenched from hers all too soon though as the door crashed open and he snapped his eyes to see who had interrupted them, his heart almost stopping when he caught sight of them.

"Theon!" Ser Ralf burst out, "I was knocking, I'm sorry I …"

He cut off then and Theon didn't need to ask why, it was obvious from the look on his face that his eyes had found the face of the girl lying naked beneath him.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry to tease you all with the Jon/Aegon meeting, it's going to be a rather long section so saving it for the next chapter!

Hope you enjoyed this anyway, thoughts would be lovely as ever.

:)


	25. Coming Clean

**A/N: **Hey guys! Picking right up where the last one left off. Also the Jon/Aegon meeting and plenty more!

Hope you enjoy and thoughts would be awesome!

:)

* * *

**Coming Clean**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Theon barely had time to pull on his breeches before Ser Ralf was dragging him to the door. He heard Adele cry out to caution her father but he didn't listen. She scrambled up from the floor then, wrapping her dress around her as quickly as she could before she stumbled out of the door in time to see Theon punched to the ground. Other voices could be heard then as she screamed out at her father to stop, knowing that he wouldn't. Ser Ralf pulled his sword then and Theon raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender, begging him to just stop for a moment and listen but the man barely heard him, unable to get the image of his daughter being dishonoured from his mind. Adele was sobbing then, coming up behind her father and pleading with him to lower his weapon so she could explain, tugging on his arm that was unmoving as he held the sword barely an inch from Theon's throat.

"What is this?! Ser Ralf, what is the meaning of this?!" Lord Stark was here now and Adele wished she could disappear, it was humiliating enough as it was.

"He dishonoured my daughter!" Ser Ralf roared.

"Please, please listen to me please, he never dishonoured me!" Adele pleaded.

"Lower your sword … this isn't the way," Ned coaxed him.

"I know what I saw!" he shouted then, his hands shaking with rage.

"Please … it isn't how it seems …" Adele begged him.

"I saw you Adele, how can you deny it?!" he rounded on her then and Theon scrambled up to his feet.

"Leave her alone!" Theon snarled.

"You're to be married!" Ser Ralf cried aghast, staring at her as though he had never seen her before.

"I'm already married," she whispered then and his sword clattered to the ground.

"What did you say?" he asked her in a dangerously low voice.

"I married Theon," she confessed, "I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from him …"

"You married him?" her father said, shaking his head slowly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry … but I love him … please"

He turned from her then, unable to even bear to look at her anymore. His Adele who was everything he had in the world, who he wanted the very best for had thrown away her good match in favour of the son of a traitor who had none of the prospects he had wanted for her. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so blind to what was evidently happening right under his nose? His mind raced with all the times he had seen them over the last months, seeing things now he had not seen at the time. The way they smiled at one another, the way their eyes would meet, his hands resting just a little too familiarly on her waist when they danced together. Gods he could see it all now. All the signs had been there but he had been ignorant to them and now it was too late. He began to walk then, barely feeling the reassuring pat on the back Lord Stark gave him and he walked heavily away from them. Away from her.

"Father! Father please!" Adele called after him but he ignored her.

"Let him go Adele … let him work it out in his mind," Theon soothed her.

"This was very foolish," Ned said sternly then.

"I'm sorry Lord Stark," Theon said, "but I truly love her … I will take whatever punishment you see fit"

"I think you've both been punished enough," he said with a sigh, his eyes sliding from Theon's bloody lip to the tears tracking Adele's cheeks.

Theon nodded distractedly then before turning his attention back to his near hysterical wife, ushering her back inside the house and away from the stares and the whispers. Ned sighed heavily again when the door closed behind them. The thought of Theon having a wife would have been laughable if the situation wasn't so serious. Still, it was done now and Ned hoped that they would at least be happy as he turned and strolled back towards the keep, wondering what the others would make of it when they found out.

* * *

_Flint's Finger_

* * *

_It was hazy. Smoke, he realised after a moment. And where there was smoke there was fire. It was as he thought that that a loud roar sounded above him, the force of it almost shaking the ground he was stood on. He should have been afraid but he felt calm as he stood there, his eyes lifting, searching; his nose sniffing at the smoky air. He took a few steps forward then, the haze of the smoke clearing slightly in a sudden gust of wind. Its clearing allowed him to see more, see the burning city in the distance and standing a few feet away from him, three of them with their backs to him. Two were fair, one he recognised the scent of and the other he didn't. The third was incredibly familiar to him, dark and smelling like his brother. He lifted his eyes higher then and saw the banners fluttering above them, one he had seen a thousand times and the other that he had thought lost forever … _

"Bran! Bran! Wake up Bran!"

It was Arya jumping up and down on his bed as he opened his eyes, irritated with her for pulling him out of his dream. It had been an interesting one, one that felt a little more like reality than a dream. He shook his head then as she continued jumping up and down, finally stopping when he shifted himself up in the bed, dropping down to sit on the end of his bed with a huge grin on her face.

"What is it?" he asked her groggily.

"The men have arrived from Winterfell!" she practically squealed, "We're going home!"

* * *

_Targaryen Camp, near the Last River_

* * *

"Who are you?" Jon asked suspiciously.

"I could ask you the same thing," Aegon said, setting a plate of breakfast in front of him which almost made Jon gag; "not ready for food yet?" he raised a brow.

"No," Jon said weakly.

"Where have you come from?" Aegon asked him.

"Hell," Jon muttered.

"Sounds like quite the journey," he said lightly and Jon snorted.

"Who are you?" Jon asked again.

"Who do you think I am?" Aegon countered and Jon frowned at him.

"Dany thinks you're dead," he said quietly then.

"Sorry?" it was Aegon's turn to frown.

"Viserys?" Jon said slowly.

"No," he shook his head.

"But …" Jon's frown deepened. Who else could be that Targaryen?

"Aegon," he said and Jon's brows practically shot up into his hairline.

"That's impossible … he was killed as a babe … what kind of sick jape is this?!" Jon demanded.

"A babe was killed … but it was just some common boy who was swapped with me," Aegon explained.

"No," Jon shook his head, "no … you can't be …"

Aegon frowned at him as he continued to shake his head and mutter his denials over and over under his breath. Something about him was odd. He knew more than any simple drunk would know and he spoke with an accent that sounded as though he was well educated. Griff had tried to persuade him to just cast him back into the woods with his wine and some coin but Aegon was glad now that he had refused. There was something … what was it?

Jon looked up at him then, seeing the crease in his brow, his eyes sliding to his. They looked like Dany's. Could it be true? Could this man who looked the part actually be who he was claiming to be? Could he be Aegon Targaryen? His _brother. _That hit him hard then. Really hard. It hit him so hard he was surprised he wasn't crushed by the weight of it all. Jon had been so concerned with how his relationship had changed with the Stark's to even think about how it changed his relations on the other side. It hit him then that Dany was his kin, she was his aunt, she had family in him that she thought she had lost and he had run away from that. He put his head in his hands and tried to stop the pounding headache. Why had he drank so much? Why had he run away?

"Who are you?" Aegon asked him quietly then and he lifted his head, his heart pounding.

"Apparently I'm your brother," he told him and he stared at him.

"Funny," Aegon said, trying his best to snort dismissively.

"Not really," Jon shook his head, "I wish I didn't know …"

"Know what?" he narrowed his eyes at him.

"My name is Jon Snow," Jon told him, swallowing hard.

"A bastard's name," Aegon said and he nodded.

"I was raised at Winterfell believing Eddard Stark was my father," he told him.

"He's not?" Aegon guessed and Jon shook his head, Gods it still twisted like a knife.

"He's my uncle … my mother was Lyanna Stark and my father …" he trailed off with a shrug.

"My father …" Aegon breathed.

"Apparently so," Jon muttered.

"You're my brother …" Aegon almost laughed, his head spinning.

Of all the places in all of the North than Jon could have stumbled to in his drunken state he had stumbled here. Right into the heart of Aegon's camp and he couldn't believe it. Part of him didn't. He had a brother? It was mad to even think it. He was raised knowing he had an aunt and an uncle and that was it. That was enough, Griff had always assured him that so long as there were three of them then it would be alright. There had to be three. Then Viserys had been killed and Aegon had to push back his disappointment, trying not to raise his hopes up too high when it came to Daenerys. What if something happened to her too? Now this man … this man who looked nothing like him … now he was saying that he was his brother. It was madness, it was just … too much. He locked eyes with Jon then and something inside him told him that he was telling the truth. He wondered if Jon believed him, his story was incredulous he knew that … but it was true and he needed Jon to believe it.

"Wine?" he finally said.

"I should say no …" Jon said, a slight smile twitching at his lips.

"I think in this instance it's necessary," Aegon said, a ghost of a smile on his own face.

"I suppose," Jon agreed as Aegon moved to un-stopper a bottle and pour two measures.

"Here," Aegon handed him a glass, "to … surprises …"

"Surprises," Jon echoed and the clinked glasses before taking a long drink.

"Earlier … when you mentioned Dany, did you mean Daenerys?" Aegon asked after a moment.

"Yes," Jon nodded.

"You grew up with her?" he checked and Jon nodded again, seeing the almost longing look on Aegon's face and pitying him despite himself.

"It must have been very different for you," Jon commented.

"It was," Aegon agreed, "I spent most of my life on a boat pretending to be a bastard with blue hair"

"Blue hair?" Jon grinned before he could stop himself.

"Blue hair," Aegon confirmed dryly before taking another long drink of wine.

"Gods … this is madness …" Jon breathed.

"I'm inclined to agree," Aegon smiled, "why did you leave Winterfell?"

"I found out the truth," Jon said.

"And that meant you had to leave?" he frowned.

"I ran away," Jon confessed, "and I know they'll be worried and I should at least write but … but they lied to me my whole life"

"There must have been a reason …" Aegon tried.

"To keep me safe from the King … but why not tell me when I was old enough?" Jon questioned.

"Why change something that doesn't need to be changed?" he countered.

"It's changed everything," Jon said sadly.

"You can always go back," Aegon said quietly.

"I did something … before I left … I did things I wasn't proud of," Jon admitted.

"Like what?" he asked him.

"I attacked my brother … although … he's not really my brother anymore," Jon sighed.

"If he's your brother he will forgive you," Aegon said.

"I know Robb will forgive me … but some things cannot be fixed," he said, finding it so easy to unburden himself to this stranger who might be his brother.

"Like what?" Aegon repeated, frowning slightly.

"I took a girl … an innocent girl, I was drunk and I took advantage of her, I knew she liked me … I knew she would let me so I … I took her …" Jon confessed.

"But you didn't force her?" Aegon said gently.

"No," he shook his head, "I would never have … but she was just a girl and I've ruined her, I ruined her to make myself feel better"

"Jon, you are neither the first nor the last man to get drunk and take a woman to his bed," Aegon assured him.

"She was too good for that," he shook his head again.

"Do you love her?" Aegon asked him.

"No," Jon snorted slightly, "that's the worst part"

"There are worse men in the world than you I can assure you of that," he smiled.

"Thank you," Jon almost smiled back.

"Can I ask you to do something for me Jon?" Aegon asked then.

"What do you want?" Jon returned suspiciously.

"I want to meet my aunt … and I want to meet with Lord Stark … that's why I'm here in the North, I dare not come upon Winterfell in case they think I'm launching an attack. We have been here a week now trying to come up with some way to get him to come and meet us and … well, now you've stumbled into the camp …" Aegon tailed off, raising his brows.

"You want me to be bait?" Jon questioned him.

"No … no of course not, you're free to leave at any time but … but I would really appreciate it if you sent a letter to Lord Stark," he said, meeting his eyes.

"Alright," Jon said after a long moment, "I'll write to him."

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Stannis was in a bad mood. The Stormlands, who he had expected to come over to him after Renly's death, had largely disappointed him. Some of the lesser houses had come over to him but many had gone over to the Lannister's, lured by Tywin's gold no doubt. Some had decided to declare for no one and Stannis had to try and persuade them over to his side somehow. If only he had more children. He only had Shireen, one daughter who was only eleven years old and by no means a catch. She would be twelve soon enough and Selyse seemed hopeful that she would flower early. He would have to pick the right match for her though, he had to pick carefully because he only had one chance. He needed to wed her into a powerful family that would show the Stormlands and the rest of the Kingdom's just how serious he was. The Stark's swam into his head then but he pushed the thought away. That ship had quite literally sailed.

"My King?" Melisandre's voice sounded behind him, perhaps she could think of something.

"What is it?" he snapped at her.

"I have been consulting the flames," she said and he sighed, turning to face her.

"What have you seen?" he asked, his voice calmer now.

"The rose of Highgarden," she told him and he frowned.

"They're on the way to the Capitol," he said.

"There is word that they have turned back, with Joffrey's demise the idea of marrying their daughter to a mere boy may be unappealing to them," she told him.

"Perhaps …" he said distractedly, his mind racing.

Mace Tyrell's heir was unmarried, unmarried and a cripple. He was in his mid-twenties, more than double Shireen's age but stranger matches had been made, Walder Frey had just married some fifteen year old Erenford girl. With him being a cripple Mace could hardly turn his nose up at Shireen's greyscale, especially when his son may one day sit the Iron Throne. Yes … it could work … if they weren't declared for Tommen then perhaps they would declare for him …

"Highgarden," he said.

"My King?" Melisandre frowned slightly.

"With Highgarden on my side not even Tywin Lannister will be able to stop me," he almost smiled.

"You're right of course," she said silkily.

"A betrothal … yes, this is just what I have been waiting for!" he burst out.

"I'm pleased to see you so happy," she smiled.

"I'm not happy … not yet," he shook his head, "but I will be … I will be once the Tyrell's are mine."

* * *

_Highgarden_

* * *

"Not in the seven hells," Loras snarled.

"He may be our only hope … if we approach him … perhaps …" Mace reasoned.

"He killed Renly!" Loras snapped.

"With Margaery missing we have no tool to bargain with, and nothing to gain from supporting the Lannister's. If we approach Stannis however, an arrangement could be made," Olena said.

"Have you lost your minds?" Loras said incredulously, this would be funny if it wasn't so ridiculous.

"He has a daughter, and I have sons," Mace said.

"You would be closest to her age Loras," Olena nodded to him.

"Madness," he muttered, shaking his head from side to side.

"But then Stannis isn't likely to be content with a third son," Olena sniffed.

"He's in no position to be choosy, the North still hasn't declared for him although everyone was certain they would have, he will be crying out for the numbers we can give him," Mace argued.

"But he may yet have a son," Olena said.

"Selyse Florent will not bear him any more children, not at her age," Mace scoffed.

"No _she _won't," she agreed, "but another woman could … and if such a thing were to happen Stannis would want his daughter's future secured"

"If he wins this she will be a Princess, what more does he want?!" he demanded.

"I think you need to face the reality that _if _he were to consider our offer he will want the heir … not the spare," she said, inclining her head to Loras.

"You're all fucking mad," Loras said, shaking his head, "thank the Gods Margaery got out when she did, you would be marrying her to Stannis next, marrying her to the man that murdered her husband! Can't you see how twisted this is?!"

"Enough Loras," Olena snapped, "this is war, there is no room for sentimentality when all our lives hang in the balance! You have done enough damage already, concealing Margaery's departure from us, don't think I have given up on getting the truth from you! We will do what we must to ensure our family's survival and if that means allying with Stannis then that is what we will do!"

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jaime could taste the wine on her as she attacked his mouth. Part of him knew she was doing this because she was drunk but the larger part of him didn't care because it seemed as though it had been forever since he had had her like this. Since the arrival of their father Cersei had become more and more erratic in her behaviour. Ferociously protective of Tommen and Myrcella and ferociously drunk the rest of the time. Sometimes he barely recognised her, the woman who had been part of him for his whole life. The woman who completed him, made him whole. She had been fading away right before his eyes and he wanted her to remind him right now that she was still alive. He needed her. He needed the real her to come back and make him whole again. Jaime groaned out against her mouth then as she tugged on his laces, his hands pulling up her skirts as he backed her into her vanity.

Something crashed to the floor then but neither of them broke their stride. Whatever it was could be replaced but this, _this _thing between them could never be replaced. He stepped between her legs then as she propped herself up against the vanity, steadying herself as she wrapped her legs around his waist. This was reckless but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything anymore. She just wanted Jaime to make her feel. She wanted him inside her, completing her and reminding her that she could still _feel. _She needed to be able to _feel. _

He was close, so close to her now. In the next instant they would join together and everything will be alright. She voiced that then, chanting it over and over as his lips ravished her neck, his hands coming to her bodice, wanting to touch more of her. She was almost begging him then, begging him to take that final step and entwine their bodies completely.

It didn't feel real when the door opened.

It looked like a dream.

More like a nightmare.

His expression darkened at once. His already cold eyes practically freezing in his head as they froze in their actions. Never had she seen fury like it. Not when she pushed Robert to the very brink and he snapped, slapping his hand across her cheek so hard that she collapsed to the floor. Not even when Jaime had jumped off those cliffs and she had told on him. Their father's eyes had flashed with rage then but it was nothing compared to the look in them now.

He knew.

Gods he knew.

He had caught them.

All this time they had managed to keep it from him, from everyone, but now it seemed as though the whole of the Kingdom's knew their secret and the only people still pretending were them. Oh Gods, what would he do? Would he send her away? Send Jaime away? Kill her? Kill him? Oh Gods, oh Gods, oh Gods.

"Get dressed," he finally spoke, the viciousness of his tone making her wince.

Jaime stepped away, righting his breeches and avoiding her gaze. She tugged her skirts down and fought the almost overwhelming urge to blush as she did everything in her power to avoid looking at Jaime or her father. The tension that filled the room was enough to almost choke her. Perhaps her father would do that. Perhaps he would squeeze the life out of her himself. The children. Oh Gods, what about Tommen and Myrcella? Surely he wouldn't say anything … surely? Tommen was King, surely her father would never reveal this, not now when he was Hand and could control every decision her sweet little boy made.

"Tommen is going to give you permission to leave the Kingsguard," Tywin spoke then, his voice calm and controlled.

Cersei swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to think about what would come next. Jaime was being forced to leave the Kingsguard. What would be her punishment? She closed her eyes and prayed to the Gods that it wouldn't involve her being separated from her babies.

"You will return to Casterly Rock, it is high time you took responsibility there, you are my son and heir after all," he continued.

"Father …" Jaime started, not even sure what he would even say next.

"We will also see about finding a wife for you, it's high time you stopped wasting your years here and settled down," he went on, giving no indication he had heard his son.

"As you wish," Jaime swallowed hard and Cersei stared at him.

No. No. He couldn't just accept it. Leave the Capitol. Leave her. No. No. What was he doing? Why wasn't he fighting for her?

"You leave at the end of the week," Tywin said, "now I think it high time you let your sister retire, it's late … come; we must discuss Casterly Rock"

Jaime obediently followed him out, avoiding Cersei's gaze as she stared after him. Of all the things she had not expected this. She had expected rage. Arguments. Pleas. Not this. Not her father's outright denial and not Jaime's spinelessness. He had once promised that he would kill everyone and anyone to keep her and now he had just willingly walked away from her. How could he do it to her? How could he walk away so easily?

* * *

**A/N: **Be gentle ... please ...

More Friday!

:)


	26. Finally

**A/N: **So we're staying in Winterfell for this chapter and from the title you might be able to guess why! Hope you all enjoy it and dropping a review and sharing your thoughts would be awesome.

**Guest:** Thank you! I've never really brought Aegon into any of my fics before but I thought I'd give it a try this time, glad you're liking him so far. I won't reveal what's going to happen with his love life but I can promise you one hundred percent that he will not be paired with Arya. Thought never even crossed my mind. Don't worry, I've read longer rants and yours was rather friendly and positive! Also your English is just fine, I would never have guessed you're not a native speaker, my writing is far worse when I do it on my phone/tablet!

Right, on with the chapter!

:)

* * *

**Finally**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Ned read the letter through twice as he stood there in the entrance hall, only looking up when there was a shout from above him. Dany was coming down the stairs, he barely had a moment to register how lovely she looked in her wedding gown before Catelyn was racing down, her eyes on the door. He moved his own eyes then and saw Bran and Arya stood in the doorway with their wolves beside them, Jory stood back a little with a young man at his side that Ned recognised as Robert's bastard Gendry from the smiths at the Capitol. For a second he was frozen but Catelyn darting to them and crushing them both into her arms had him moving towards them, stuffing the letter into his doublet as he waited for his wife to release the children.

"Thank the Gods!" she exclaimed when she pulled back, "thank the Gods for you … thank you …"

"Let them breathe Cat," Ned chuckled and she moved back slightly so he could embrace them both.

"Are you alright?" he asked them seriously.

"We're alright," Arya promised him.

"Both of you? Truly?" he checked, looking between her and Bran.

"Truly," Bran nodded, "Jory is the only one who got hurt"

"Thank you," Ned turned his eyes to his loyal guard and friend then and Jory nodded.

"I'm only sorry I couldn't bring the Lady Sansa as well," he said regretfully.

"What happened?" Catelyn asked him as Dany descended the rest of the stairs and proceeded to greet the children.

"She got away from me when I was saddling the horses, I'm sorry my Lady, I looked everywhere I could think of for her," Jory told her and she nodded.

"Gendry isn't it?" Ned said then, his eyes moving to the man at Jory's side.

"Aye … I mean … yes my Lord," Gendry bowed shortly.

"He joined us on the road, thought we might have use of a smith," Jory explained.

"Aye, we might," Ned smiled.

"Thank you my Lord," Gendry said, bowing again.

"You're all just in time," Ned said then, turning to look at Bran and Arya.

"In time for what?" Arya questioned.

"Do you want to tell them Dany?" Ned asked her and she beamed.

"Robb and I are getting married," she told them.

"Now?!" Bran asked.

"Today?!" Arya burst out.

"Yes," Dany confirmed, nodding her head happily, her smile stretched wide.

"Take them out to the Godswood Cat, Dany and I will follow on in a while, give Robb a chance to see them first," Ned said then.

"Come on," Catelyn held her hands out and they took one each, not complaining that their mother wanted them close, both thrilled at having her comforting presence at their side again.

"Would you come Jory?" Dany asked then.

"Is Loral there? And the children?" he asked her in return.

"They are all there," she confirmed and he beamed at her.

"Then I best follow after Lady Stark … congratulations my Lady," be bowed shortly.

"Thank you," she beamed back before he turned and hurried back out into the courtyard.

"How about a quick drink? Give them chance to greet one another," Ned suggested.

"That sounds good," Dany nodded, smoothing the front of her dress and following him into the solar.

Ned was very much aware of the letter shoved down his doublet as he poured himself and Dany some of the good wine that he knew she favoured. The Gods help Robb when they became Lord and Lady of Winterfell, she would bankrupt him with her expensive taste if he allowed her to. She thanked him with a beaming smile when he handed her a glass and he raised a toast to her health before they both took a drink. He could tell she was nervous as her hand shook slightly but he also knew that he overwhelming emotion was happiness. He himself was almost brimming with it, thrilled that Bran and Arya were home safely and bursting with pride that Robb would soon be married to a woman he loved. Sansa being missing stabbed hard at him though and now this letter was needling away at him. On the plus side at least now he knew that Jon was alive and well and not dead in a ditch somewhere. What was needling him was knowing where he was. Aegon Targaryen. Surely not. Surely it was a pretender. It was preposterous. Aegon was dead, murdered as a babe. The killing of him and his mother and sister had disgusted Ned, the thought that one of them could have survived had never crossed his mind.

He looked at Dany then, every inch the Targaryen. He thought of what Jon had written, describing 'Aegon', the description matching Dany perfectly. What were the chances of that? Jon seemed at least partially convinced but Ned was wary of his judgement. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Jon's part. In his mind he had recently lost all his brothers and sisters. In his turmoil could it not be possible that he was latching onto this idea of Aegon because he was desperate to have a family again? Desperate for a true brother. Ned sighed then. Whoever this was, Aegon or not, he could wait until tomorrow. Today was Robb and Dany's day and a day for Ned to spend with the family he had with him. This letter could wait until tomorrow. He would let his son have his perfect day, knowing he had been waiting so long for it.

"Shall we?" he asked Dany then, holding his hand out.

"Let's," she agreed with a smile, taking his hand and rising gracefully to her feet.

* * *

Robb couldn't keep the smile from his face as he stood waiting before the heart tree, his eyes barely registering the Septon nor anyone else in the Godswood, his mind just focused on her. Knowing that she would soon be entering the Godswood on the arm of his father and knowing that when they left again she would be his forever. His eyes caught Bran and Arya stood with Rickon and his mother then and his smile widened still further, so happy that they were here to witness this; that they had got back in time. He felt a slight pang then for Jon and Sansa, wishing that they were here too but his thoughts were soon taken over by Dany as she and his father rounded the corner. She looked so beautiful he could hardly believe she was real. He memorized her image then as she came slowly towards him, the trailing skirts of her white gown flowing fluidly behind her. The bodice was cut just low enough to catch Robb's full attention, his eyes drawn to the curves of her, barely registering the intricately embroidered violet and silver flowers that were sewn into the bodice of her dress.

He held his hand out for her as his father brought her right to him, nodding to him and bestowing a proud smile on him as he took Dany's hand. His father stepped back then and he squeezed his hand around Dany's, feeling her return the pressure, her eyes bright as she smiled up at him. Part of him didn't quite believe that this was real, that in just a few short minutes she would be his. He gazed down on her, wanting to savour this perfect moment for just another few precious seconds. The Septon roused his attention then by clearing his throat quietly and Robb and Dany inclined their heads a fraction to one another before they began their vows.

Theon glanced at Adele as Robb and Dany recited the vows that they themselves had said only a few weeks ago but she wasn't looking at him. She wasn't even looking at them, she was looking towards her father and Theon could see that Ser Ralf was purposefully avoiding her gaze. He sighed heavily, knowing that Adele would more than likely end up in tears again by the end of the day. The more days that went by without her father speaking to her, the more upset she got and he had no clue at all how he was supposed to comfort her. Robb was sliding the ring onto Dany's finger then and Theon let his hand find Adele's, somewhat reassured when she laced her fingers with his and squeezed lightly. He had to admit that he had been worried at first that she would blame him and regret their marriage but thankfully her love for him hadn't faltered. The Gods know what he would have done if it had. He had to drop her hand then so they could applaud the newly married couple and Theon smiled happily, so pleased that his friends had managed to get to this point when only months ago it had seemed impossible.

Robb leant in to kiss his new wife as the claps and cheers rang through the Godswood. _His wife. _Just thinking the words made him giddy as he kissed her softly for a long moment. He longed to deepen the kiss and let all his desire for her take him over but now was not the time and he regretfully pulled away from her and smiled widely. Dany returned his smile, a look of something akin to triumph in her eyes as she gazed up at him. There were calls from one or more people then to head inside for the feast and Robb held his arm out for her, feeling the familiar pressure of her hand in the crook of his elbow after a moment. He let out a long sigh of satisfaction then as they ambled leisurely with the others back towards the keep. Finally. _Finally. _She was his.

* * *

Dany could barely manage more than a few bites of the sumptuous feast. Everything was so delicious and ordinarily she would have eaten everything but right now her stomach was fluttering with nerves, her eyes darting to the door every now and again, knowing that she and Robb would soon be leaving through them and retiring to bed. Lord Stark had banned the bedding ceremony which she was glad of but she couldn't stop her racing heart and churning stomach. Lady Stark had told her what to expect from the wedding night and she knew there would be pain. She had been assured that it would pass though and she had no reason to doubt her good-mother. She swallowed rather hard then before glancing at Robb, her husband. A smile spread across her face then for a moment before she turned her attention back to her plate, determined to eat some more. Part of her could still not believe that she was sat here in the seats of honour next to Robb at their wedding feast. It seemed impossible. She had dreamed of this moment for so long but not once did she ever think that it was likely to come true. His hand came to rest on hers then and she turned to look into his piercing blue eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked her in slight concern.

"Of course, what could possibly be wrong?" she asked him in return.

"You've not eaten much," he stated.

"I'm fine," she stressed.

"I'm nervous too," he said lowly, brushing his thumb across the back of her hand.

"Truly?" she asked, forgetting her pretence.

"Truly," he confirmed with a smile that she returned easily.

She picked up her knife and fork again then and found that eating had suddenly become a lot easier. Robb watched her for a moment with a smile playing about his lips before he picked up his glass and took a drink of wine. People around him were finishing their meals now and rising up to dance and drink and chatter happily together. He saw Loral and Jory slipping away after a few moments and he smiled again, he was glad that Jory was back, perhaps now Dany could stop being so worried about Loral and her children. It was selfish of him but he wanted her all to himself for a little while because while the North was managing to stay out of the war in the south for now he knew that this situation would not last forever. At some point they would be dragged into the conflict whether they liked it or not and Robb knew that that meant him marching to war with the others. He shook his head slightly at his macabre thoughts and looked back to Dany, seeing that she had finally finished her meal. He pushed his troubling thoughts away then and stood, offering her his hand which she took gladly, leading her down from the high table so they could join the other dancers.

* * *

Theon sighed heavily as Adele drained her third glass of wine. Getting her home without causing a scene would be near impossible, she was not what could be described as a cooperative drunk, especially when she was drinking wine. She was pouring another glass then, her eyes fixed on her father as she filled it to the brim. Theon had been hoping that they would get caught up in the jubilation of the day but everyone being so happy around her had seemingly only served to make Adele even more miserable.

"Maybe we should go," he suggested hopefully.

"Wouldn't it be rude to leave before the bride and groom?" she returned, raising her glass to her lips.

"If we're staying perhaps you should slow down," he said pointedly.

"It's a wedding Theon … we are supposed to eat, drink and be merry," she said.

"Well you're certainly drinking," he muttered under his breath.

"What?!" she snapped at him.

"It's a wedding," he repeated her own words, tugging the glass from her hands; "Robb and Dany's wedding, today is not about you so can you please just stop it, I won't have you causing a scene and ruining this for them"

She stared at him for a moment and he steeled himself, thinking that he may well have pushed her too far. To his surprise she said nothing, turning her attention back to the spread of food and drink in front of them and reaching for a jug of water. He breathed a sigh of relief as she filled a glass and began sipping it down slowly. He set her wine down far out of her reach then as she set down her water and took a deep breath.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's alright," he smiled, placing his hand over hers.

"Not here," she said, tugging her hand from beneath his.

"You're my wife Adele, everyone knows it now; can I not even take your hand?" he asked her.

"I don't want to make it worse," she hissed at him.

"It can't get any worse," he sighed, "the best thing to do is carry on as we usually would, it's the only way he will get used to it"

"What if he never gets used to it?" she questioned him.

"Look at me," he said and she did as she was told; "if he thinks you're miserable with me then it will only turn him further against our marriage"

"I'm not miserable with you," she promised him and he smiled, reaching up to stroke a hand down her cheek.

"I know," he breathed, "but can you not see how it looks to others when you cringe away from me in public?"

"I know," she whispered, "I just don't want to make it worse by parading our happiness"

"Your father needs to see that we love one another, he has to get used to this because it is done now and there is no undoing it," he said firmly.

"I don't want to undo it," she said and a smile tugged at his lips again.

"I'm stuck with you then," he sighed in mock exasperation and she managed a small laugh.

"I love you," she said after a moment.

"I love you too," he said, hesitating for a moment before leaning in to lightly brush his lips across hers.

* * *

When the song ended Dany looked up to meet Robb's eyes and she knew at once that they would not be staying for another dance. Her stomach clenched then as he stepped slightly away from her and laced his fingers through hers before leading her away from the celebrations and out into the hallway. She took a deep breath then and she felt him squeeze her hand lightly as they made their way towards the stairs. Robb's own heart was pounding as he led her up to his room, _their _room it was now he remembered with a jolt. He would never have to sleep without her by his side again and the thought of wrapping his body around hers and holding her as they drifted off to sleep made him happier than he could comprehend. He swallowed hard then as they reached his door, taking a breath before he pushed it open and led her inside. She had been in here on countless other occasions but never like this. He had never thought she would ever be in here like this no matter how many times he had dreamt about it.

"Wine?" he asked her nervously and she nodded her head.

"Please," she said, clearing her throat slightly.

"I feel so …" he struggled with the right words.

"Awkward?" she supplied and he shrugged; "strange?" she suggested then and he smiled.

"I just never thought we'd ever be here," he confessed, handing her the wine.

"Neither did I," she smiled, "but here we are …"

"Here we are," he agreed, raising his glass to her, "to us"

"To us," she echoed and they clinked glasses before both taking a sip.

"I don't really want this," he said, setting his aside.

"Neither do I," she whispered, setting her own glass aside and meeting his eyes.

They both seemed to move as one then, stepping closer to one another, their lips seeking out one another's, hands going for the lacings of one another's clothing. Robb deepened their kiss, pulling her even closer to him as he pulled on the ties at the back of her dress, feeling a sense of triumph as he blindly managed to loosen them. Dany's own hands had already pulled his doublet open and she was tugging the lacings of his shirt, her hands finding his bare skin and making him shudder with want. When her lacings were undone he regretfully pulled out of their kiss, both of them breathing hard, the atmosphere thick with anticipation as his hands moved to her shoulders to slide her dress away. She was wearing a thin silk shift underneath and he could make out the perfect roundness of her breasts through the material. His breeches felt so tight then as she stepped towards him, her hands pulling his doublet away before sneaking down his chest to tug up his shirt and pull it up over his head. She swallowed then, slowly letting her hands roam across his chest, her fingertips swirling patterns in his hair. He breathed deeply then and she let her eyes wander downwards, seeing that he was already swelled with desire.

Dany took a deep breath of her own then before she let her hands wander slowly down his chest and stomach, her fingers coming to toy with his lacings. He inhaled sharply then and she let her hands unthread him, amazed that they didn't shake. It took everything Robb had not to grab her and throw her down on the bed then as she freed his length. Her soft fingertips gently brushed down his hardness then and he had to supress a groan, his own hands coming to her hips to guide her towards the bed. She pushed his breeches further down his hips as they went before her hands came wandering back up to his shoulders, encouraging him to sit. Robb did as she wanted, regretfully tearing his eyes from her so he could pull off his boots and kick his breeches away. He didn't want any barriers between them, he wanted every inch of him to cover every inch of her. She took another deep, settling breath then before she hooked her own fingers under the straps of her shift and slid it from her shoulders. The material fell to the floor, pooling at her feet and she somehow managed to lift her eyes back to Robb.

His eyes were wide as he took all of her in. How many times had he imagined her stood bare before him? In his wildest fantasies she had never looked this good. Every fibre of his being was screaming for her then and he slowly reached out a hand to settle on her hip, gently rubbing up and down her smooth skin and urging her towards him. She was so close now that if he tilted his head up he would be able to kiss those firm breasts. Before he could act on that though she placed her hands on his shoulders, her knees coming to rest on the bed as she slowly eased herself into his lap. He couldn't help the sharp intake of breath then as he felt her pressed up against him, feeling her desire against his own. He leant closer then, brushing his lips across her neck, hearing her sigh softly as he did so. One hand he kept on her hip, the other he wandered slowly up her side until he could cup her breast. Her breath came sharply then and she leaned in closer, her movement making him surer in his own as he tenderly massaged her breast, his lips still kissing across her neck and up towards her jaw.

Dany fisted her own hands in his hair and pressed herself still closer, his hand at her breast wandering down to settle on her other hip then, lifting her slightly so his hardness teased at her. She couldn't help the little gasp of surprise and the way her hands clenched tighter in his hair as she felt him up against her. Slowly he encouraged her to circle her hips, his length pushing slowly into her as her body relaxed. She seemed to hold her breath then, feeling his own ragged against her neck as he slowly pulled her down onto him, feeling the sudden sting of him taking her innocence, his fingertips digging into her hips for a second. Robb was kissing her neck again then, his hands rubbing gently up and down her back as she took some steadying breaths, getting used to the feeling of him filling her completely. She pulled his head up then and claimed his lips with her own, their tongues twisting together so deliciously; her stomach tightening in knots that were not altogether unpleasant. As she continued to kiss him she tentatively moved her hips back and forth, feeling him groan into her mouth. She moved again, encouraged by his reaction and his hands came back down to her hips to encourage her motion.

The more she moved the better it felt and soon she head to tear her lips from Robb's because she was struggling for breath. He revelled in the sharp little cries that left her mouth then each time she rocked her hips into him. She felt so good surrounding him and knowing she was feeling the pleasure too made him desire her even more. He could never get enough of her, never. He told her that then, mumbling it breathlessly against her skin, tasting the slight tang of her as beads of sweat began to form across her collarbone. He kissed his way down then, letting his tongue lap them up, her back arching into him and a moan escaping her as his lips found her breast. Gods everything he did to her felt so good and she could feel herself losing control, her hips rocking faster and coaxing a growl of appreciation from Robb as his mouth continued teasing at her breast. His fingers pressed further into the skin of her hips then as he felt her warmth closing in around him. Breathless cries left her then as she moved, the knots in her stomach so tight she thought she would explode. In the next second it all came undone and she moaned out in relief and pleasure, every pore of her seemingly tingling as she mumbled Robb's name over and over.

Her own end pushed him to his, only needing her to rock into him a few moments more before he finally peaked, spilling himself deep inside her with a groan, her head dropping to his shoulder as they both fought for breath. He could feel her warm breath against his neck as she slowly came down from her height, his own breathing ragged as he pressed her as close to him as he could, feeling her hands settle on his back as his traced up and down her spine. It felt so good holding her like this, being so close to her, being joined with her completely. It felt so right, like it had always been meant to be. After a time he slowly and carefully shifted them back further onto the bed, slipping from her warmth regretfully as he did so. He lay down, placing his hands on her hips to encourage her off him, rolling onto his side when she came to lay next to him and smiling lazily at her. She smiled back, her chest still rising and falling more rapidly than normal as his eyes slowly wandered the length of her body. Her hand came to stroke down his cheek then and he exhaled in satisfaction before turning his eyes back to hers.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked her.

"Only for a moment," she answered him and he turned his head to kiss at her palm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"You're forgiven," she smiled, "you more than made up for it"

"What are we to do now?" he murmured.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm not sure how I am ever going to be able to let you leave this bed," he told her and she giggled.

"We have all night," she said, raising her brows.

"That," he said, shifting himself above her, "is very true"

"I love you Robb," she told him, meeting his eyes as he nestled between her legs.

"I love you too," he breathed as she wrapped her legs around his waist, "I love you so much."

* * *

**A/N: **Thought I'd devote a whole chapter to some happiness before I really kick off the drama! Hope you enjoyed, will likely get another one up for you all on Monday!

:)


	27. Destinations

**A/N: **A fair bit going on in this chapter! Hope you guys all enjoy it and I would love your thoughts as always!

Thank you all so much for reading!

:)

* * *

**Destinations **

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Absolutely not, there is no way I'm letting you come!" he shouted.

"You don't get to decide that!" she screamed back.

"Yes I do! I'm your husband!" he roared.

"I swear to the Gods if you forbid me I will never forgive you!" she snarled at him.

Robb folded his arms then and Dany did the same and they glared at one another, neither one seeming willing to back down on this. Ned looked at Catelyn then and saw her worrying at her lip. He had expected a strong reaction to Jon's letter, what he hadn't expected was the explosion that followed. Dany had said at once that she wanted to come with them to see this Aegon with her own eyes, she wanted to know if he was real because he would be her family. Robb refused, Ned could tell that he didn't believe this tale for a moment and he didn't want Dany disappointed if they discovered he was just a pretender. Instead of calmly explaining his refusal though he had flat out forbidden her and Ned had seen the explosion coming in her eyes. Married less than a day. This can't have been what either of them had expected.

"Perhaps we should sit down and discuss this properly," Catelyn suggested.

"There's nothing to discuss," Robb said dismissively.

"No, there isn't," Dany agreed with him, shooting him a dark look.

"Clearly there is," she said more sharply, "now sit down!"

They did as they were told then, dropping into chairs on opposite sides of the room and firmly ignoring one another. Ned sent a grateful look to his wife then and she rolled her eyes and sent him an exasperated look before taking a seat of her own. He sat with a heavy sigh then and looked between his son and his good-daughter. He didn't want to have to take sides, to undermine Robb and pull rank as Lord of Winterfell, but if he didn't his son's marriage could be over before it truly began because he had no doubt that Dany meant it when she said she would never forgive him.

"As Lord of Winterfell," he started and Robb snapped his head to him, his eyes showing his betrayal and Ned knew he knew what he was about to say; "I think Dany has a right to come with us, she's right … this man could be her kin and she deserves the chance to see him with her own eyes so that she knows for sure …"

"It's too dangerous," Robb shook his head, "what if this is just some trap?"

"The letter is written in Jon's hand," Ned reasoned.

"He could have written it under duress!" Robb snapped.

"I don't think so," Ned shook his own head now, "there is no hint of a shake in his writing"

"Does Jon seriously believe this?" Robb asked incredulously.

"I think so," Ned nodded.

"But it's utterly ridiculous!" he burst out.

"Jon would know better than you, since he's actually met him," Dany shot at him and he glared at her.

"None of us know anything," Ned soothed, "and we won't know until we meet with him, so the sooner we leave the better"

"How many men?" Robb asked.

"We'll take all the men left to us and leave a thousand to help the watch," Ned said.

"Will that be enough?" Catelyn asked.

"Lord Bolton has more men at the Dreadfort, I will ask him for them but there should be enough here to protect you should any threat come," he assured her and she nodded.

Robb muttered something that sounded like 'pointless' under his breath then and Ned sighed heavily. Ordinarily he would chastise him for his surliness but he felt like he had humiliated him enough for one day and so he stood to leave, inclining his head for Catelyn to follow him. He had half a mind to lock Dany and Robb in there but he restrained himself, closing the door behind them. Catelyn raised her brows at him then and they both paused for a moment, hearing nothing from within the room to suggest any argument had flared up again. His wife took his arm then as they walked away, both of them hoping that Dany and Robb would reach some kind of understanding.

* * *

Robb expected her to have a look of smug satisfaction on her face when he finally lifted his eyes to look at her but she was staring blankly towards the window and chewing distractedly on her bottom lip. She looked troubled and he sighed in defeat. His father had overruled him so it was pointless them continuing this argument. He still thought it unlikely that this man was truly Aegon Targaryen but he pushed his misgivings aside, voicing them would only wind Dany up even more. They had been married less than a day and had already resorted to screaming at one another. This morning they hadn't been able to keep their hands off one another as they had laughed and teased at one another under the covers. Damn it all. He couldn't stand this.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper," he said and she turned her eyes to him.

"I know it's your right as my husband but I hated you forbidding me like that," she said.

"I know," he said softly, "I wasn't doing it to be cruel … I just want to protect you"

"I know that," she nodded, "but … but whether he is Aegon or not I _need _to see him"

"You will," he said slightly bitterly.

"What's bothering you so much about him?" she asked with a frown.

"I just can't get my head around it," he shrugged, avoiding her gaze.

"There's something else," she stated.

"There's nothing," he shook his head.

"Don't lie to me, you can't lie to me … you never could," she said sharply.

"I'm worried about Jon," he said and she sighed.

"He's fine … you'll see that for yourself soon enough," she soothed.

"I suppose," he muttered and she stood up to leave, pausing at his side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"You're holding something back Robb Stark," she said quietly, "and so help me I will get it out of you eventually," she promised, squeezing his shoulder before continuing out of the room.

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Benjen staggered slightly under Erik's weight as the tunnel slowly began to reveal itself, the familiar clank of the mechanism almost bringing a smile to his face. He could scarce believe that they had made it back. His heart stabbed with guilt then, only three of them had made it back and he had taken a party of thirty. He shifted Erik then and sent a grim look to Gren who was propping him up on the other side. If the tunnel didn't open up soon then it might be that only two of them made it back to Castle Black. Erik's wound had gone bad and he was in desperate need of proper care or Benjen was almost certain that he would lose his arm, if not his life. After what seemed like an age the doors raised high enough for them to duck under them and he and Gren supported Erik down the tunnel, their staggered footsteps echoing loudly around the cavernous space. Once they came through the other side brothers descended on them at once, all exclaiming and asking him what they had found, why so few of them had returned.

"Enough," Benjen snapped, "You will all find out soon enough after I have spoken to the Lord Commander, make sure he is taken straight to the Maester. Tell him that he has a wound on his right arm that has festered. He has had a fever on and off for the last four days."

"I'll make sure he's told," Gren promised him as another brother came forward to take Benjen's place in supporting him.

Satisfied that he would be taken care of Benjen set off at once towards the Lord Commander's quarters, wondering what the Old Bear's reaction would be to all of this. As he reached the top of the steps the man himself was wrenching open the door of his rooms with a hard look on his face that softened slightly when he caught sight of Benjen.

"Thought you might be back, heard a commotion," he greeted.

"Here I am," Benjen said wearily.

"You look like you could use a drink, come," the Old Bear said, turning and stamping back into his rooms.

Benjen sat heavily once inside and the Lord Commander looked at him searchingly as he went about pouring two large flagons of ale. They clanked the metal together once the Old Bear had handed Benjen his drink and he took a small gulp before watching the man before him drink down most of it in one go.

"How many did you come back with?" he asked him when he finally lowered his flagon.

"Two," Benjen said before wiping his sleeve across his mouth.

"Right …" he nodded.

"Erik's injured bad though … we burned the others," Benjen told him.

"What happened?" the Old Bear questioned.

"Set on by a group of wildlings, our own fault … we risked a fire," Benjen said.

"Sometimes it goes unnoticed, sometimes it doesn't," he shrugged.

"Aye," Benjen agreed before draining the last of his ale.

"Did you get answers?" the Old Bear asked him then and he sighed heavily.

"More than I bargained for," he admitted.

"Well?" the Old Bear pressed him.

"Do you want the bad news or the _bad _news?" Benjen asked him in return.

"The bad first," he almost smiled.

"The walkers … the tales are true," Benjen told him.

"The Gods help us all … are you certain?" the Old Bear asked him.

"Aye," Benjen nodded, "saw it with my own eyes"

"Damn it all," he cursed, "and the _bad_ news?"

"Mance Rayder is gathering an army of wildlings to march on the Wall," Benjen said and the older man closed his eyes in despair.

"When you say an army?" he frowned.

"I mean a fucking _army,_" Benjen told him and he paled further.

"We've not the men," he shook his head.

"We'll have to ask for aid from the south, they have to help us … if the Wall falls we all die," Benjen said insistently.

"Might be easier said than done gaining support from the south," the Old Bear said wearily.

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

"Lot's been happening since you went beyond the Wall," the Old Bear smiled wryly.

"Tell me what I need to know," Benjen frowned.

"Robert Baratheon is dead, his son now too … although the parentage has been questioned. Been said they're children of incest between the Queen and the Kingslayer," he started.

"Gods above," Benjen cursed.

"Stannis Baratheon has declared himself the true King, his brother did the same but he now lays dead as well … the North has marched to protect the borders but has declared for no one. The Kingdom's are on the brink of a war, I don't think anyone will listen to any pleas from us … when have they ever?" he finished with a heavy sigh.

"Ned will come," Benjen said certainly, "we have to at least try and gather support … my brother will come I know he will."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"You will look after them won't you?" Dany asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Yes," Theon rolled his eyes towards the largest of the dragons who sputtered out some smoke in response, oddly they seemed to like him.

"Thank you," Dany said gratefully, she was loathe to leave the dragons behind but Lord Stark had forbidden her from taking them.

He was right of course, they didn't know anything about the supposed Aegon yet and revealing to him that they had three dragons would not be clever of them. Robb had hoped that the thought of being parted from the three of them would make her change her mind and stay but he had not counted on them discovering accidently that the creatures liked Theon. He had only come into the kennels to see if there were any pups, thinking that Adele might like a companion in the house when he wasn't there. He liked the idea of her having a loyal dog that would protect her when he wasn't around, he hated her being in there on her own, especially when he had to work the night shift. Usually he would volunteer to patrol their street just so he could keep an eye out. He was no fool, she was a beautiful woman and there were men everywhere who couldn't resist a beautiful woman, even if she belonged to another. The thought of another men breaking in there and hurting her sent him into a panic every time he thought of it and he thought a big, ferocious looking dog might just make such men think twice.

There were a few pups and he was discussing with the kennel master when one could be separated from its mother when Dany had come in to see her dragons. Out of curiosity he had followed her through to the section where they were kept and had been just as surprised as her when they took a liking to him. He had purposely avoided them up until that point having heard horror stories from Ser Rodrik and some of his men. Apparently he had had nothing to worry about and Dany, seeing their liking for him, had asked him to take care of them while she was gone. They didn't need much, just feeding and watering and a little attention. He didn't need to give up much of his time for them because they had one another for company.

"Have you named them yet?" Theon asked her.

"No," she frowned, "I thought to name two of them for my brothers … but then I thought perhaps Jon would like to name one …"

"I still can't quite believe it about him," Theon said, shaking his head. He was one of a few who had been trusted with the truth.

"Neither can I," she confessed, "not long ago I had no one and now I potentially have two nephews"

"Do you think this Aegon is true?" Theon asked.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "but I have to find out … I have to see him"

"I understand that," he said.

"I wish Robb did," she said with a heavy sigh.

"He's just worried about you, and after the fire I can't say I blame him," he said.

"I know," she said, "but this could change everything and I need to be there"

"It'll be alright … he'll calm down eventually," he said reassuringly.

"I hope so," she said, "anyway … how is Adele?"

"Better," he said hopefully, "she misses her father but she seems to have accepted that there is nothing she can do about it for now"

"It's awful what's happened, they are the only family one another has," she said sadly.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" Theon asked her.

"No!" she protested at once, "No of course not … but you have to admit it was a rather reckless decision …"

"I love her," he said firmly, "I couldn't let her go and marry another … I just couldn't"

"You've changed Theon," she smiled.

"Is that a good thing?" he grinned back.

"A very good thing," she said, raising her brows and making him laugh.

"Thanks Dany," he said.

"You're welcome," she returned, turning her head as footsteps approached.

"Forgive me my Lady," the guard bowed, "have you seen Lord Stark?"

"He's preparing for the journey north, I'm not sure where he would be," she told him.

"Lady Stark?" the guard questioned.

"Sorry," she shook her head and he looked rather despairing.

"Lord Robb then?" he asked and she frowned.

"Has something happened?" she asked him.

"There's two ladies arrived my Lady," he told her, "one claiming to be Margaery Tyrell and the other her protector"

"Margaery Tyrell?" Theon question disbelievingly.

"That's what she says," he nodded.

"I best come and see her since no one else is around, Theon … would you see if you can find Lord Stark or … well, anyone?" she asked.

"I'll find someone," Theon promised her and they all made to leave the kennels.

* * *

Dany made her way after the guard and saw the woman she assumed must be Margaery at once being helped down from her horse by another woman clad in armour and built more like a man. She searched in her mind for some reason that Margaery would be here of all places but she couldn't think of any. The woman turned then, rearranging her cloak about her and realisation flooded through Dany when her eyes caught the slight roundness of her belly.

"Margaery Tyrell?" Dany questioned her gently.

"Yes," she nodded, trying to compose herself, "I've come to see Lord Stark"

"I've sent someone to find him, can I show you and your companion to the keep?" Dany asked her.

"Thank you," Margaery replied wearily, "the journey has been long"

"Come with me and we'll get you settled somewhere while we wait," Dany smiled.

"Who are you?" Margaery's companion asked her suspiciously then.

"Dany," she said, "Daenerys Targaryen, and you are?"

"Brienne," the woman answered, a suspicious look still on her face, "of Tarth," she added.

Dany merely inclined her head then before leading the way towards the keep. In the entrance hall she called for one of the servants to bring some hot cider and make up something to eat quickly for their unexpected guests. Margaery sat gratefully down in a chair when they entered the solar but Brienne stayed standing just behind her with her hand on the hilt of her sword, as if readying herself to draw it at any moment. Dany frowned slightly at the action but said nothing as two serving girls entered with the hot cider, promising that the food would not be long. Dany thanked them and poured out three glasses, Margaery taking hers with thanks and Brienne examining hers rather suspiciously. Gods the woman did seem the paranoid type. Dany took a pointed sip from her own glass then just to prove she wasn't trying to poison anyone. Thankfully the door opened again before she was forced to make any attempt at conversation, Lord and Lady Stark and Robb all filing in which almost identical looks of confusion on their faces.

"Margaery Tyrell?" Ned directed towards the petite brunette.

"Yes, my Lord," she stood then and curtseyed to him.

"You must forgive my lateness … we were not expecting you," he said.

"My brother sent me, he seemed to think this is the safest place for me," she told him.

"And what do you need keeping safe from?" Ned asked her.

"My family," she confessed, her eyes welling with tears, "forgive me …"

"It's alright my Lady," Ned soothed her but it was no good, before he knew it she had burst into tears and he looked at Catelyn despairingly.

"Hush now," Catelyn said, coming forwards and rubbing her hands soothingly up and down the girl's upper arms, "hush now … it's alright"

"I'm so sorry," she choked out, "this is no way to behave … I'm sorry"

"It's alright," Catelyn soothed again and Margaery took a deep breath, looking up to meet her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I don't know what came over me … I think I must be over tired"

"You've travelled a long way," Catelyn smiled sympathetically.

"Why?" Ned asked simply.

"When Renly was killed my family looked to ally us with the Lannister's … they planned to have me married to Joffrey but I couldn't," she shook her head and Dany understood.

"Did they know?" Dany asked her and she shook her head again.

"Know what?" Ned frowned.

"I'm with child," Margaery told him and he raised his brows in surprise.

"Renly's child?" he asked despite himself, everyone knew Renly preferred the company of men.

"I know what you're thinking," she said with a slight laugh, "and truth be told he did prefer my brother … but he did his duty with me and I am carrying his child"

"That explains why you've come here," Ned said.

"I could go to no one else … you were my only hope," she said sadly.

"You can stay as long as you need, you're carrying the heir to Storm's End and I would see to it that your child can claim its birth right, and perhaps more beside it," Ned said.

"What do you mean?" Margaery asked him almost fearfully.

"We were going to declare for Renly," he told her and her eyes widened.

"No," she shook her head, "no I'm sorry Lord Stark that is too much … I don't want my baby near that throne, it will be in enough danger as it is. That throne is poison … lusting for it killed Renly, it drove his own brother to murder him. My baby is innocent and I would not destroy that innocence by declaring them King or Queen."

"I understand," Ned nodded, "I respect your decision … I wouldn't want to force you"

"I've risked everything to save my baby, I would not throw that away for anything," she said fiercely.

"Very well," Ned nodded again.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful … I truly am blessed that you would consider looking after me here," she said then.

"You don't sound ungrateful," Ned assured her.

"You sound like a mother," Catelyn smiled, "that baby will be blessed indeed to have you."

* * *

_Riverrun _

* * *

"See that?" the Hound pointed and Sansa squinted into the fading light.

"I think so," she said uncertainly.

"Riverrun," he said, a smile almost tugging at his lips.

"We're nearly there?" she breathed, her eyes lighting up.

"We'll be through those gates before the sun is fully set," he promised her and she smiled widely.

Riverrun. Her family were in there; her grandfather and her uncle. They would pay the gold that the Hound wanted for her and then she would be safe behind walls that contained friends and not enemies. She had never met any of her Tully family but surely they would be wonderful if they were anything like her mother? Her mother often spoke fondly of her younger brother, despairing that he had not yet found himself a wife. Her grandfather she knew was unwell but perhaps meeting one of his grandchildren would make him feel at least a little better? She could make out the light of the keep now and hear the rushing of the river in her ears. So close.

She was so close.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei poured herself another glass of wine. Things were getting desperate. She had not seen Jaime since her father had caught them but one of her irritatingly chipper maids had told her that he was apparently leaving for Casterly Rock at the end of the week. That had been a few days ago now and she knew that tomorrow would be the day half of her was taken away. Every time she had tried to talk to her father he had dismissed her, refusing to even hear any mention of what he had witnessed between her and her twin. In her desperation she had even asked Tyrion to intervene on her behalf but he had refused her, telling her to pull herself together and start acting like a Queen instead of a drunken harlot. That had stung.

He would pay for that.

She would see to that personally.

She swilled her wine around in her cup then, some of it slopping over the sides of the glass and dribbling down onto her pale blue silk. A knock sounded on the door then as she took a long drink. Jaime? Was it Jaime? Had he finally come? Would he ask her to run away with him and the children again? This time she wouldn't refuse, this time she would go with him and do anything and everything to make sure they were happy and safe and together forever.

"Come in!" she called, praying that it was her sweet Jaime.

"Drunk again Cersei," her father's voice sounded and she closed her eyes in despair.

"What do you want?" she slurred, taking another slug of wine.

"I want you to sort yourself out, Jaime is leaving in the morning and you need to be there to send him off," he told her.

"I will do no such thing," she snapped.

"You will do as you're told," he said icily, "think how it would look if you didn't see him off"

"I don't care how it will look," she said defiantly.

"You will be presentable and sober tomorrow and you will stand there and smile and wave along with everyone else," he ordered her and she rose up from her chair.

"Don't send him away," she whispered, finally meeting his eyes which didn't thaw.

"You heard me," he said, making to turn away.

"No!" she protested, grabbing at him and pulling him back; "You can't do this to me please! You can't separate us … it's wrong! Unnatural!"

"What you two did is wrong and unnatural, I am sending him away to save your children you foolish little girl!" he snapped at her, finally acknowledging what he had seen.

"Please!" she begged, clawing at his hand in desperation.

"Go to bed Cersei," he said dismissively, pulling his hand away from her.

"No!" she screamed, placing herself between him and the door so he couldn't leave.

"Stand aside," he said coldly.

"Not until you promise that Jaime can stay," she choked.

"Stand aside or I will force you to," he said, unmoved.

"You will not," she whispered, reaching her hand quick as a flash to his belt and pulling out his dagger.

"Put that down before you hurt yourself," he said exasperatedly.

"I can't be parted from him," she said maniacally, holding the blade out threateningly.

"It's wrong what you did … the very thing that drove that Targaryen's mad and to their end, just look at how Joffrey turned out!" he snarled at her.

She snapped then and before she could even think rationally about what she was doing she had plunged the dagger into his chest. His eyes were disbelieving but only for a moment as the light faded from them and he collapsed to the floor and moved no more.

* * *

**A/N: **The end of this chapter is setting up a Cersei/Jaime/Tyrion story arc that I really hope I can pull off, and that you guys enjoy!

Let me know what you think! More soon!

:)


	28. Make-ups and Set-ups

**A/N: **Picking up right where we left off so I won't hold you guys up.

Just a big thank you to readers/reviewers, it really does mean a lot I hope you guys know that. Any comment on this would be awesome.

Onwards!

:)

* * *

**Make-ups and Set-ups **

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei stared between her blood soaked hands and her unmoving father, unable to quite believe what she had done. She hadn't meant it. Had she? Surely she hadn't meant it. It was an accident. They would know that wouldn't they? She looked down at his body again then, her hands shaking uncontrollably as her eyes fixed on the dagger buried in his chest. Of course they wouldn't know that. It was cold blooded murder. She blinked then and a tear escaped her. What to do? A distant noise made her jump and she swallowed hard. There was no way she could get the blame for this. What would happen to Tommen and Myrcella without her to look after them? What would happen to her sweet babies and her sweet Jaime? No. She had done this to keep them all together and now she had to make sure that that happened.

With shaking legs she stepped forwards, bending down and wrapping her hand around the hilt of the blade. She pulled it and it came free with a sickening noise, even more dark blood flooding from the hole she had made in her father's chest. She wondered if it had pierced his heart. She wondered if he had even had a heart. Her eyes darted about the room then as she took a few steadying breaths, her eyes landing on a shawl slung over one of the chairs. She darted forward and wrapped the knife in it before desperately wiping her blood-stained hands down the front of her skirts. Her shaking hands went for her laces then and she pulled her dress away before crossing to the basin and hurriedly scrubbing the drying blood from her palms. Another deep breath had her picking up her blood stained dress and lifting her mattress, shoving it underneath. She could deal with that later. Right now she needed to make sure that no one knew that it was her who had done it.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

She pulled on an unspoiled dress then and tied it tight, her hands no longer shaking. Her heart was pounding and her head was clear. She knew what she had to do. She picked up the blade that was still concealed in her shawl and went for the door, carefully avoiding trailing her dress in the ever expanding pool of blood.

She knew exactly what she had to do.

* * *

"Cersei?!"

Jaime pounded the door again but still there was no answer. Perhaps she truly wasn't inside. Perhaps she was and she just didn't want to see him. He couldn't blame her if that was the case. He had been an utter craven since his father had caught them, reverting back to being that little boy again who obeyed all commands because that was what was expected of him. Deep down he knew he should stand up for himself and stand up for Cersei. He hadn't though, he had bowed his head and accepted his betrothal like a good boy. Heir of Casterly Rock even after fucking his own sister and fathering her children hadn't seemed like a bad punishment. He still should have come to see her sooner though. He was leaving in the morning and now he couldn't sleep knowing that she likely despised him for giving up on her so easily.

"Cersei please!" he pounded the door, "I know you're angry with me, but let me in, please!" he continued until his knuckles hurt and he rested his head against the door with a frustrated sigh; "Cersei?" he said in confusion, seeing the thick trickle of darkness seeking under the door; "Cersei?!"

He burst into the room and stopped dead.

"Jaime?" her voice behind him now as he staggered back from the doorway.

"Where were you?" he gasped out.

"With Myrcella, what's going on Jaime?" she asked him.

"Don't look!" he grabbed her before she could get passed him and see into the room.

"Jaime, what is it?" she struggled against him.

"It's father," he told her quietly and she stared at him.

"Let me go Jaime!" she demanded, pushing away from him and making for the door.

She retched when she saw the blood, their father laying in the middle of it, and Jaime pulled her back again as she screamed. There was the clanking of armoured footsteps then as guards came from every direction on hearing the screams of their Queen. Jaime held her as she screamed and sobbed and cursed the Gods, holding her so tightly as though he would never let her go. He wouldn't now. Now there was no reason to. Their secret had died with their father who was laying cold and lifeless on the hard stone floor. The guards were shouting their own questions then and Jaime tried to clear his own head and make sense of it.

"I don't know …" he shook his head.

"I do," Cersei said then, her voice shaking; "there is only one who hated him enough …"

"Cersei no," Jaime murmured quietly.

"Who else Jaime?" she demanded.

"Your Grace?" one of the guards asked her.

"The Imp," she spat; "I want him found and his rooms searched!"

* * *

_Riverrun_

* * *

Sansa's hands shook as she stood there in the solar just waiting. She twisted them together, trying to avoid the gazes of the guards who she knew were still looking at her curiously. Instead she turned her eyes to the Hound and he raised his brows slightly at her. She swallowed hard then before moving her eyes to the floor, her hands twisting even more furiously together as the seconds trickled into minutes of almost deafening silence. Oh Gods … what if Edmure didn't believe her? Or worse, what if he did but wouldn't pay the coin? What would happen to her then?

"Sansa?"

She looked up at the inquiry and set eyes on a man that could only be her uncle. He looked very much like her mother, like Robb. Like those she loved so much but hadn't seen in so long. Her mouth was dry as she went to open it, no words leaving her, her lips pressing back together and her head nodding as tears stung her eyes.

"You're alright," Edmure told her, coming to a stop in front of her; "you're alright now, you're safe here, you're with your family …"

"Thank you," she managed to whisper, lurching forward into his arms before she could stop herself.

He was slightly bewildered but said nothing, merely letting his hand pat her uncertainly on the back. One thing he had never been remarkably good at was comforting hysterical women. Catelyn would expect it of him though when it came to her daughter and so he managed to hush her gently and murmur to her again that she was safe now. When she began to calm down he turned his eyes instead to the man who had brought her. The guard who had come to fetch him had been wide eyed when he told him that the Hound had come with a girl claiming to be Sansa. Edmure had thought it some ploy but that was until he saw her stood there, the very image of his sister. She could be no one but Catelyn's daughter and he determined to pay her ransom and get her back to her mother.

"Have you been harmed in any way?" he asked her quietly then.

"No," she shook her head against his chest and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm not my fucking brother," the Hound muttered under his breath.

"You'll be wanting a reward?" Edmure addressed him then as Sansa stepped back and rubbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress.

"Well I didn't come out of the goodness of my heart," he replied wryly.

"I'll see to it," Edmure promised him and he nodded.

"What will happen now?" Sansa asked him then, her blue eyes wide.

"You will stay here until it's safe for me to return you to Winterfell," Edmure told her.

"Will you tell them where I am?" she asked almost fearfully.

"Of course," he nodded kindly.

"Thank you," she said, uncertain of what else she could possibly say.

"You look tired," Edmure stated, "come … I'll find you a maid to escort you to some chambers, we can speak more in the morning."

* * *

_The King's Road, near Long Lake_

* * *

"Make camp!"

The order was called back and Robb stopped his horse at once. They had been making good progress and he had been afraid that they might actually come across this Aegon's camp this night but thankfully the call had come up. They were close now though, at the other end of the lake, come dawn they would be able to see the trees on the other shore and Robb knew that through those trees was the camp of the man claiming to be Aegon Targaryen. He still didn't believe it and he had hated every moment of moving closer to him, the thought of Dany meeting with him, the thought of what his intentions were towards her. He shuddered slightly at the thought. It didn't bear thinking about. Their relationship was already straining and he knew it was his fault but he couldn't help it. He hated that she had marched with them, wishing more than anything that she was back at Winterfell where he knew she would be safe.

"Robb?" his father's voice sounded behind him and he sighed heavily.

"Father?" he said, turning to face him.

"We'll be upon them in the morning," his father told him.

"Aye, I thought as much," Robb nodded.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and Robb could practically feel his eyes boring into his skull.

"I don't like this, you know I don't," Robb said.

"Think of Jon," his father urged him.

"I want my brother back but I don't want to lose my …" he cut off, he had said too much.

"Your what?" his father frowned at him.

"It doesn't matter," Robb muttered, scuffing at the ground with his boot.

"Robb …" he began warningly.

"I don't want to lose my wife," Robb said lowly and his father sighed.

"Why would you even think that?" he asked him.

"I know all about Targaryen traditions," Robb said darkly.

"She's married to you," his father said firmly.

"That won't mean anything if he wants her … Gods … what if he wants her?" Robb asked him.

"Have you spoken to her?" his father returned.

"No," he scowled.

"Then go and talk to her," his father urged, "now Robb … tomorrow is important, I don't want this hanging over us"

"Fine," Robb agreed moodily before stamping away.

His and Dany's tent had already been erected and he slowed his pace as he came towards it, trying to sort out the words in his head. He swallowed hard before pulling back the flap of the entrance and slipping inside. She turned as she pulled on her robe, her eyes slightly apprehensive as they found his. They had been so shy and tentative around one another since the decision had been made to march and Robb hated it, missing the easy conversation and the happiness. How could it have dissolved so quickly? His fault, he reminded himself, all his own fault. His mouth was ridiculously dry as he made his way further into the tent, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed and tugging off his boots.

"I can't stand much more of this," Dany stated then and he swallowed.

"Much more of what?" he asked her quietly.

"_This,_" she repeated, coming to stand in front of him, "what's happened to us?"

"It's my fault," he told her, the only words that would come for him.

"Robb … please … just tell me what it is before I lose my mind!" she implored him.

"If this man is Aegon why do you suppose he wants to meet you so badly?" he asked her.

"Because I'm his aunt," she said, not missing a beat.

"Is that all?" he raised his brows, "That's the only reason you can think of?"

"Whatever it is Robb will you just spit it out?!" she demanded.

"Oh come on Dany! You're not stupid! You know the Targaryen traditions!" he shot back at her.

"I'm married to you!" she said incredulously, "Why would you even …?"

"Anything could happen to me," he said, meeting her eyes.

"And what? You think I would exchange vows with another man before you were even cold?" she asked him, her eyes wide.

"I don't know," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

"Do you really think that little of me?!" she demanded.

"No," he shook his head.

"Do you seriously think I would consider marrying another if I lost you?!" she continued.

"Dany …" he breathed, looking up to meet her eyes again.

"You mean everything to me and it's killing me that we're falling apart," she choked.

"We're not," he shook his head vigorously, standing up to face her.

"That's what it's felt like," she confessed.

"I know … and it's all my fault. I'm sorry … I'm sorry … please forgive me," he murmured, pulling her against him.

"It's you for me Robb … no one else, I just want to see him, to see if he's kin … no more," she promised.

"I know," he breathed against her hair, "I've been ridiculous"

"Don't shut me out like that again," she scolded him, pulling back slightly.

"I won't I promise," he swore and her lips curved upwards.

"Good," she said lightly and he leant forwards to capture her lips, his worries seeping away as her soft lips moved with his as he guided her back to the bed.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Adele shivered as she stepped out into the faint light of dawn, pulling her furs tighter around her as she set off down the quiet streets. There were only a few others up and she exchanged greetings with them as she made her way to the bakery. Theon had worked the night shift and she wanted to make sure there would be food for him when he woke up, knowing that he would doubtless be starving. She had been loath to pull herself out of his tight embrace and slip from their deliciously warm bed but he was always grumpy when he was hungry so it was best to avoid it. Her footsteps faltered slightly as she approached the bakers and saw her father outside already sizing up the loaves set out. His own eyes widened slightly when they set on her but he moved them away quickly enough and snatched up one of the loaves. Adele sighed. She had had about enough of this.

"Father?" she tried but he ignored her, counting out his coin and giving it to the baker who looked between them almost nervously; "father please …" she continued but he turned to leave with thanks to the baker. "Father!" she grabbed at his arm to pull him back and he rounded on her suddenly, making her falter slightly; her feet taking a few steps back. His features were angry but she saw them soften slightly as her vision blurred.

"Adele?" his voice sounded hazy but she could feel his strong grip on the tops of her arms encouraging her to look at him; "Adele?! Sweetheart?!" his voice was more urgent now and she could hear it more clearly, her vision returning to normal. "Are you alright?!" he demanded.

"Fine …" she said, shaking her head, "just a little faint for a moment …"

"I'm taking you to the Maester," he said.

"No," she shook her head again, "truly there is no need …"

"I will be the judge of that," he said sharply, grabbing her arm firmly and practically marching her towards the Maester's tower.

She wanted to be irritated with him but she couldn't be, not when his being so concerned for her proved that he must still care about her. Love her even. He kept a strong grip on her as they climbed the spiral staircase and still she said nothing, wondering if he would insist on coming in with her. Surely he wouldn't? The Maester answered at once when her father knocked and she brought a smile to her face.

"Ser Ralf, what can I do for you?" the Maester asked.

"Adele felt unwell," he said and the Maester frowned towards her.

"Adele?"

"Just a little faint … truly I am fine now, I really ought not to waste your time …" she began.

"I would appreciate it if you checked her over," her father said and she sighed heavily.

"Of course, come right in," the Maester gestured for her to go inside and she did as she was told.

"I'll wait right here," her father said and she managed to nod and smile to him before the door closed.

"Now then," the Maester began.

"Maester Luwin there truly is no reason for me to be here wasting your time," Adele said at once.

"If you were feeling unwell …" he frowned.

"I know well enough what is wrong with me," she said quietly, glancing towards the door.

"I see," the Maester nodded knowingly.

"No one knows yet … but you see, there is no need for any examination," she said.

"And you're certain?" he checked with her.

"I have not bled and I ought to have, I know the signs well enough … I'm with child," she told him.

"Very well," he nodded, "but if you feel especially unwell I urge you to come and see me"

"I will," she promised, rising to her feet, "thank you"

"You're most welcome," he smiled as she made her way to the door.

She paused as she reached it and took a few deep breaths. That was the first time she had admitted her condition out loud. A pang of guilt hit her then as she thought of Theon sleeping soundly at home – it was him she ought to have told first. The truth was that part of her was worried about his reaction. He had changed so much from the man she had been warned about when she had first arrived but she wondered if perhaps a baby so soon would scare him, make him revert back to being that man. Would he turn back to whores as she grew bigger and undesirable? Would he do that to her? She shook her head, she couldn't deal with what-ifs. This baby was real and Theon would have to deal with it whether he wanted to or not. It wouldn't be long until he worked it out for himself anyway. Their love making had been uninterrupted since the wedding and that had been weeks ago. Theon wasn't stupid, he would work it out soon enough and she would rather he heard it from her before he did. She pulled open the door then and fixed a smile on her face for her father who looked instantly relieved as he stopped in his pacing.

"What is it? What did he say?" he demanded of her.

"I'm perfectly well just as I said," she soothed, "likely I'm just tired"

"That's all?!" her father checked almost desperately.

"That's all," she assured him and he crushed her into his arms.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he breathed, "I'm so, so sorry … for everything. You're my world Adele, I just want to know you're happy …"

"I am," she promised him, tears stinging her eyes as she clung to him.

"That's all I ever wanted," he said, "all your mother wanted … all I promised her …"

* * *

Theon was still asleep as she had expected him to be when she returned to the house. She couldn't concentrate on anything though and so eventually she climbed the stairs slowly and slipped quietly into their room. He always looked so young and beautiful and innocent when he slept. When he was awake he often had a frown creasing his brow as he worried about all sorts, either that or a twinkle in his eye that meant she was in for a treat. She loved everything about him but watching him sleep she could imagine him as a child. Imagine what their own child would look like. Her hand drifted down to her stomach then as she sat on the end of the bed with her eyes fixed on him, just waiting for him to wake up. Gods she hoped he would be pleased. She had been shocked and unsure how to feel when she had first suspected it but as her suspicions turned to certainty a little bubble of sheer joy had welled up in her. Gods she hoped Theon would not burst that bubble. He stirred then and she held her breath as his eyes blinked open slowly, a deep shuddering breath leaving him when he caught sight of her.

"You frightened me half to death," he said groggily, "what are you doing there?"

"Waiting for you to wake up," she told him.

"Gods woman … you can't be that desperate for me can you?" he grinned slyly and she slapped his feet under the blankets.

"No," she pouted, "I have something to tell you"

"Go on," he yawned widely and she swallowed hard.

"I'm," she started, "we're … we … I'm with child Theon," she got out and he snapped his eyes to hers.

"Say that again," he whispered.

"I'm with child Theon," she said more confidently and he sat bolt upright.

"You're certain?" he checked, scrambling towards her.

"I'm certain," she confirmed and he smiled widely making her feel instantly relieved.

"Gods," he breathed, placing a hand to her stomach, "a baby …"

"Well is it any wonder?" she cocked her head to one side, "We spend half our lives abed …"

"Only half?" he raised a brow, "That doesn't seem like nearly enough time …"

"Theon!" she shrieked happily as he pulled her down onto the bed, his body coming to nestle between her legs.

"I love you Adele … I love you so damn much …" he breathed.

"Can you believe we're going to be a true family?" she asked him, running a hand through his hair.

"I can't wait," he smiled and she returned it happily.

"I love you," she whispered just before his lips leant in to capture hers.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Tyrion sat up with a jolt as the door crashed open, hitting the wall with such force that it felt like the whole room shook. The woman laying naked at his side shrieked, grabbing a sheet towards her to protect her modestly. Tyrion didn't know why she was bothering, she was a whore; likely some of these guards had had a go on her themselves. He blinked stupidly at them, seeing swords drawn and pointed towards him. Was this some kind of joke? His father had told him to stay away from the brothels but really? Surely sending an armed guard to drag him back to the keep was going just a little bit too far?

"What do you want?" he asked them grumpily, his head pounding from the wine he had drunk the night before.

"You're under arrest," one of them told him and he snorted.

"For what? Drinking and whoring?" he rolled his eyes.

"Murder," the guard said, stepping further forward.

"Murder?" Tyrion repeated incredulously, "And who am I supposed to have murdered?"

"The Hand of the King," he told him.

"My father?" Tyrion said stupidly.

"Get dressed my Lord, we have orders to take you to the cells," the guard said.

He moved then, slipping into his breeches and pulling a tunic over his head, his mind racing. Pounding. How could he be under suspicion? It was ridiculous, he had been at the brothel all night – countless people could account for his whereabouts. The state he was in he would not even have been capable of murdering anyone. He was more likely to have murdered himself, drowned in wine or smothered by a whores tits. This would all be some misunderstanding and once he got back to the keep he would demand to see Jaime and have all this madness sorted out.

Two guards grabbed him under the arms then as soon as he fastened his doublet. The eyes of whores and the men seeking their custom were on him as he was marched from the room. Gods he couldn't stand them. Any of them.

"What?" he snapped, defiantly lifting his chin up; "Have you never seen a dwarf before?"

* * *

**A/N: **Hmm, certain people *coughTheonahem* are rather too happy at the moment ... anyway ... thoughts?

More ... ooooh, how does Sunday grab you?

:)


	29. Meeting and Treating

**A/N: **New chapter, finally, all three Targaryen's in one place!

Hope you guys enjoy, do let me know what you think as your comments are much appreciated.

:)

* * *

**Meeting and Treating**

* * *

_Riverrun_

* * *

"I have men arriving from the Twins today, it might be best that you stay out of the way," Edmure told her and she nodded.

"Why are they coming?" Sansa asked and he grimaced slightly.

"Old Walder has been trying to get me to marry one of his daughters for years," he said.

"And you don't want to?" she guessed, buttering another slice of toast.

"If you'd seen any of his daughters Sansa you'd understand why," he sighed and she smiled slightly.

"Perhaps I could spend time with my grandfather?" she suggested and he nodded slowly.

"He's very ill," he told her, "he may get confused … don't let it upset you"

"Perhaps seeing a new face will help?" she suggested hopefully and he smiled at her optimism.

"Perhaps," he agreed, privately thinking that Sansa's face would not be a new one for his father, she was far too like Catelyn.

He sighed heavily then as he heard the sound of hooves outside in the courtyard, standing up and looking down out of the window. It seemed the Frey's had arrived. Right on time. Sansa smiled sympathetically at him and he said his farewell to her before retreating from her chambers. He didn't like having to keep her upstairs and out of the way but people talked and she was very Tully. The Riverlands had managed to keep out of everyone's way in the war so far but Edmure imagined that if it was discovered that Sansa Stark was at Riverrun they would soon be dragged into the fight. He was trying to hold off for now, what with his father being so ill. He would only march when the North did, and he assumed Lysa at the Eyrie was of the same thinking. Family came first and he knew it was likely that Ned Stark would eventually make a move. When he did Edmure would be ready and waiting to join him.

The Frey's were in the entrance hall and he forced a smile for them as he descended the last few steps. They bowed low to him, murmuring their greetings and he responded as lightly as he could before inviting them to follow him to one of the council chambers. They sat when indicated and Edmure followed their lead, pulling the decanter of wine towards him at once and pouring a large measure. If they even thought to try and force fat Waldra on him again he would need it.

"What do you have for me this time?" he asked and Olyvar smiled rather sheepishly.

"Our father is aware you are not keen," Waldron stated, "so he sent us with this …"

"What is it?" Edmure reached out to take the smooth silver from him.

"Open it," he urged and Edmure did as he was told.

"She's my sister, Roslin," Olyvar told him and Edmure stared at the portrait.

_If _this was accurate the girl was utterly beautiful. He had taken many a pretty girl to his bed but this image was something else entirely. He could never imagine tiring of her with her soft dark curls, her big doe eyes and the mesmerizing smile. There was a slight hint of a gap between her two front teeth which somehow made her even more enchanting to Edmure. He looked up to Waldron and Olyvar then and saw the look of amusement shining in their eyes.

"Is this real?" he asked them.

"That's her image," Olyvar said, "and it is a true one"

"And why am I only seeing it now?" Edmure demanded.

"She is father's jewel … he is loath to part with such a prize but if that's what it takes …" Waldron trailed off.

"She is beautiful," Edmure conceded.

"She is also obedient, kind and gentle," Waldron added.

"She's been taught her duty well, she would know how to run your household," Olyvar continued.

"I see …" Edmure muttered, his mind racing, his eyes turning back to the image of Roslin Frey.

* * *

Sansa let herself quietly into the room, her grandfather was propped up against the pillows but his eyes were closed so she tiptoed to the window seat and sat herself down. The view from here was beautiful and she looked out over the river that seemed to sparkle in the morning sunlight. She could still scarce believe that she was here, somewhere safe. Hopefully it would soon be arranged for her to be taken back to Winterfell. She wanted that more than anything.

"Cat?" a voice rasped from behind her and she turned her head.

"I'm not Cat," she said gently, standing up and making her way towards him.

"Lysa … little Lysa …" her grandfather said, grasping her hand.

"I'm Sansa," she told him, "I'm Cat's daughter …"

"Oh Lysa," he moaned, his grip on her hand increasing, "you've come to forgive me …"

"Forgive you?" Sansa frowned slightly.

"He was no good that boy …" he shook his head, his eyes closing.

"What boy?" she asked him, "I'm Cat's daughter …"

"Cat?" his eyes snapped open again.

"Yes," Sansa nodded.

"Oh my little Cat … I haven't seen you in so long … have you seen your sister?" he asked hopefully.

"No," Sansa shook her head, unsure how she was supposed to correct him now.

"It would have been the ruin of her," he breathed.

"I don't understand," she said honestly and his grip on her hand slackened.

"You were always a good girl Cat …" he trailed off, his eyes closing again.

Sansa stayed where she was for a moment, until she was certain that her grandfather had fallen back to sleep. She eased her hand away from him then and moved quietly towards the door. Edmure had warned her he might get confused, but far from upsetting her it had intrigued her. She wondered what he wanted to apologise to her aunt Lysa for. Whatever it was she supposed it was none of her business. She walked along the hallway then, wondering if Edmure was finished with the Frey's yet. It was rather lonely being confined up here but she knew it was for her own good. She looked over the bannisters as she crossed back to her own room and saw her uncle with two men in the entrance hall. Really she ought to get out of sight but before she could one of them looked up and caught her eyes. She froze then, thinking that if she darted away at once it would only make him more suspicious. His gaze lingered on her until her uncle noticed his distraction and moved his attention away from her.

Olyvar tore his eyes back to Edmure regretfully, he would have been more content to let them linger on the girl upstairs. Waldron was discussing final arrangements now and he let his eyes slide back up to where she had been, trying not to feel too disappointed that the beautiful girl had disappeared from his sight.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Cersei get out of my way!" Jaime huffed at her.

"No!" she snapped, "You're not going, I won't let you!"

"I need to see my brother!" he returned heatedly.

"He's a murderer!" she screamed.

"I want to hear that from him!" he shot back at her.

"Jaime please," she said more softly, taking his hand, "I need you with me right now"

"Cersei," he groaned as she stepped closer, her other hand slipping under his breeches.

"He killed our father," she whispered, "he's a liar … those whores never saw him, he wasn't in that brothel like he said he was … you heard them …"

"Cersei …" he breathed as her hand continued to move.

"I want him punished Jaime … I want him dead," she said.

"He's called for trail by combat …" he said as she pushed him back towards the bed.

"Who will stand for him?" she whispered, straddling his waist as he lay back.

"I …" he started but she cut him off with a kiss.

"Not you Jaime," she breathed against his lips, rocking her hips into his, "not you …"

* * *

Tyrion stared at the wall, the steady drip that fell from the ceiling was at once irritating and soothing to him. He imagined he would miss that simple annoyance when his life was snuffed out. It had become clear to him very quickly that Cersei had no plans to see him released. This was her chance to rid herself of him once and for all. He knew once the trial came that not one of those he had been with in that brothel would remember it. The Gods only knew how much she was paying for their lies. He had always known she hated him … but this? There were only two options left for him now that he had foolishly called for trial by combat in his fit of anger. The first was Jaime but it was looking increasingly unlikely that his brother would even come and see him, let alone stand for him. Cersei's poison seemed to have seeped so far into him that he could only ever see things her way. It was a shame … Jaime could have so much potential away from her, leaving for Casterly Rock and taking a wife could have been the making of him.

His other option was Varys, the eunuch was supposed to dance to his tune now since the discovery that he was behind the riots. Tyrion had no doubt that the man could get him away from the Capitol with relative ease if he really wanted to. But where would he go? What would he do? How was he supposed to live with Cersei constantly, relentlessly hunting him down for a crime he had not committed? He had thought about it on countless occasions. Had fantasized about it. But he would never have done it, he hadn't done it. His protests fell on deaf ears though. Everyone seemed completely blind to the fact that it would have been next to impossible for him to stab his father in the chest. How could he have overpowered him to the point that he could do that given his height? In short he was just too _short _to have been able to do it but that mattered not as Cersei's word seemed more than enough. Cersei's word was law and it would kill him if he didn't think of a way out of here soon.

* * *

_Targaryen Camp, near Last River_

* * *

It was Ghost who came to greet them first as they picked their way through the trees. He bounded right up to Grey Wind and the pair of them whined and yapped happily at one another. The sight made Dany smile and she looked to Robb only to see him staring straight ahead at the fluttering banners. Lord Stark at his side looked almost as grim faced as they came to a halt on the perimeter of the camp. The men all seemed nervous as they dismounted and Dany swallowed hard as she slid from the back of her own horse. Robb came to her side but he still said nothing and she could see a nerve jumping in his temple. They may have made up but he was still by no means happy about being here. She just hoped that he wouldn't lose his head, none of them had any idea how they would be greeted and what would happen from there.

Ned stepped forward then, his brow furrowing as a man approached him that he felt sure he recognised from somewhere. He couldn't quite place him, thinking he may have seen him at the tourney at Harrenhal, knowing that he had been a Targaryen loyalist.

"Lord Stark," he nodded his head.

"Have we met?" Ned asked him, taking the hand he offered and grasping it for a moment.

"Not as such," he said, "Jon Connington, although nowadays I go by the name of Griff"

"Griff," Ned repeated.

"Right enough," he nodded, "if you'd like to follow me …"

Ned glanced uneasily at Robb and Dany then, seeing his son working hard to keep his mouth shut and his good-daughter's eyes wide with apprehension. He jerked his head for them and his guard to follow after them. The Lords that were with him would remain with the rest of them men until he had an idea of what exactly was going on. They walked in silence through the camp, the men who had risen and were cooking up breakfast giving them curious looks as they passed. Sell-swords. Ned recognised them as that if nothing else. There were a group of five large tents in the middle of camp and Griff walked right up to the central one that had the highest flying sigil atop it. The three headed dragon, Ned had been certain that he would never see that again, certain that he had the only two remaining Targaryen's. He thought of Jon then and looked around, wondering where he was, wondering how he would react to them being here. His letter had been polite enough and reassuring but Ned knew that he must still feel utterly betrayed.

"Your guard can wait out here, there are no arms inside," Griff said then.

"Really?" Ned raised his brows.

"By all means keep your own arms, just make sure none are raised," he said.

"I'm not here to fight," Ned said coldly.

"Then please …" he gestured for them to enter and Ned went first followed quickly by Dany and finally a scowling Robb.

Ned's eyes slid right over the fair man who claimed to be the lost Prince and fixed instead on Jon who stood up at once and came towards him. He grabbed him in an embrace, not caring who could see and what they would think, just so relieved that he was safe and well. No matter how reassuring the letter was it was nothing to seeing him with his own eyes and seeing that he had not broken his promise to Lyanna after all.

"I'm sorry," Jon said as he pulled back, meeting his eyes.

"So am I," Ned nodded, his jaw set tight so emotion would consume him.

"Robb?" Jon looked tentatively towards him then and Robb's face finally relaxed.

"Don't worry … it healed," he smiled, stepping forward and embracing Jon himself.

"So did mine," Jon almost laughed when they broke apart, "Dany … I'm so sorry …"

"Come here," she embraced him gently and he held her back, so relieved that everyone seemed so understanding of him.

"Daenerys?" an uncertain voice broke through then and she turned to look at the man who claimed to be another nephew.

It was like looking at a brother, exactly like she had always imagined Viserys. He was so like her, his hair the same shade and when she met his eyes they were the same colour exactly. He was the mirror of her, only male, taller and more powerful but so very like her. So unquestionably Targaryen. She could practically feel Robb bristle at her side as she took a tiny step towards him, seeing the uncertainty shining in his eyes that she was certain was present in her own.

"Aegon?" she questioned, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes," he nodded, his gaze firm on hers and she believed him at once.

"Yes," she agreed, her lips twitching up slightly and she saw the relief in his eyes.

She believed him, that was the main thing. His aunt, his kin, believed him just as he suspected Jon did although his brother had never said it out loud. Jon didn't really need to, just the fact that he had stayed here at the camp when Aegon had told him repeatedly that he was free to leave spoke volumes in his mind. Now all he had to do was convince the Stark's, Eddard and his son who were both grim faced, Robb even more so than his father. Aegon's brow creased slightly as he met the man's intensely hard blue gaze, wondering what exactly he had done to warrant such a look. He had barely spoken two words so far. Eddard was the main focus though, the Lord, the man who had control of the northern armies. His son could be as surly as he liked and Aegon assumed he would be but that wouldn't matter if he could get the father on side.

"Lord Stark," he bowed his head in greeting.

"Aegon," Ned bowed his own head, "I hear …"

"You hear right," Aegon nodded, "but … I'm sure you'd like to see some proof"

"What more proof is needed? Just look at him," Dany frowned.

"Dany," Robb practically growled in warning and she fell silent, contenting herself with narrowing her eyes at her grumpy husband.

"It's fine," Aegon said soothingly but still Robb didn't thaw and he turned away from him, wandering towards the torch bracket where a flame was dancing; "your proof," he said, placing his hand into the fire and holding it there, moving his eyes to Ned's who had a troubled expression on his face. After he felt he had made his point he pulled his hand back out of the fire and held it out, turning it over slowly so they could all see there was no mark on him. "Now," he said softly, "perhaps we can talk?"

* * *

Wine was brought and Aegon poured the glasses himself, well aware of Robb's eyes boring into him as he moved. He could feel other eyes on him as well but they were much less hostile and he wondered again what it was that the Stark heir had against him. When he looked up to pass the wine around he noted how Robb's hand rested on the back of Dany's chair, his knuckles stretched white. Dany seemed more at ease but she kept glancing at him worriedly and Aegon suddenly felt like he might have worked out exactly what it was that Robb Stark had against him. He glanced down at his aunt's hand then and sure enough a simple silver band adorned her finger. His eyes moved to Jon then, he had failed to mention that their aunt was bound to the Stark's in more than just wardship. Then again … perhaps Jon didn't know either. His eyes slid back to the ring and Dany seemed to catch his line of sight, her hand suddenly pulled under the table. A frown definitely set in then as he passed the final glass to Jon before taking one himself. After a long drink he sat himself down and saw that everyone apart from Robb was sipping at their own wine. He sighed heavily. This was ridiculous.

"I suppose you'd like to know my intentions," he said.

"I would," Ned agreed and Aegon let his lips twitch up slightly.

"Put simply I want to take the Iron Throne, my birth right," he told him.

"Aye," Ned nodded, "there is the complication of you being dead to contend with"

"My legitimacy cannot be denied, you've seen it for yourself," Aegon said.

"I have," he agreed, "but you cannot prove yourself to every man, woman and child in the Kingdom's"

"I don't need to, I need to prove myself to the Lords, if I can convince them then their people will follow, you know that Lord Stark," Aegon said, taking another sip of wine.

"And you want my help?" Ned raised his brows.

"We are kin after all," he raised his own, glancing towards Jon.

"Jon?" Ned said, meeting his eyes.

"I believe him," he said, "but it is not my decision to make"

"You've declared for no one," Aegon stated.

"It's not for lack of trying," Ned muttered.

"Griff was certain you would join Stannis," Aegon said, meeting his eyes.

"That was my initial intention," he agreed.

"Surely he wouldn't turn away twenty thousand and potential forces from the Riverlands and the Vale?" Griff spoke up then.

"Stannis is under the guidance of a priestess, he's been bewitched by her if his companion is to be believed and he seems a good man," Ned explained, "he seemed to think getting his hands on Dany was more important than my men and I wasn't about to let that happen"

"And Renly?" Griff piped up again.

"Murdered," Ned told him, "I have his widow at Winterfell"

"Why?" Aegon asked.

"She's with child," Ned confessed.

"Does she seek the throne for her unborn child?" he asked.

"No," Ned shook his head, "she doesn't want her child anywhere near it, but I would see to it that Storm's End is reclaimed for the babe"

"One of your terms?" Aegon raised his brows.

"It would be, _if _I'm to join you," Ned said and Aegon nodded.

They all took a pause there, all sipping at the wine again. Even Robb raised his glass this time and Aegon smiled slightly, thinking it was about time another matter was cleared up. There was only so much of this tense atmosphere he could take. Outside he heard the whining of the wolves and wondered if they could sense it too. Jon had told him that he seemed connected to his wolf Ghost, Aegon could only assume that Robb was connected to his too and that their emotions would mirror one another's. The wolves were clearly nervous and agitated, Aegon could see their shadows moving up and down through the canvas of the tent now that the sun was rising higher.

"I think I need to make something clear," Aegon started again.

"Go on," Ned set his glass down and met his eyes.

"My intentions towards Daenerys," he said then and he saw Robb stiffen, an uneasy look in Dany's eyes as she too turned to him.

"Are?" Ned urged.

"She's my aunt – kin. I know the traditions of our family but they were what had madness flowing through the veins of so many, I don't want that. Nor would I want to take a wife who is already married," he said, his gaze moving to Robb now whose eyes widened slightly.

"Dany's not married …" Jon said then, frowning at the flush that appeared on her cheeks.

"We didn't want to do it without you," she said.

"We …" he tailed off, seeing Robb shift uneasily, "you …"

"I'm sorry you weren't there, we have been waiting so long we just …" Robb began.

"No," Jon shook his head, "it's my own fault I wasn't there … I'm pleased for you"

"Thank you," Dany said, looking immensely relieved.

"We are kin in more ways than one," Aegon looked towards Ned again.

"Aye," Ned agreed, "I think it's time I spoke to my banners"

"As you wish," Aegon nodded his head, "I will be right here when you're ready to speak again"

Ned merely nodded before standing up from the table. The others seemed unsure what to do and he sighed, meeting Robb's eyes and jerking his head towards the flap of the tent. Not all the banners were here but many were and he needed to seek their advice. He was inclined to believe Aegon, but there would have to be several terms set in place and agreed to before he even began to consider joining his army with his. It was a huge risk and one that may result in the ruin of them all. Still, he had always known he wouldn't be able to stay out of the fight forever and here it was. Crossroads.

"Dany?" Robb looked at her pointedly when she made no move to stand.

"Do you mind if I stay?" she asked him hopefully and he sighed at the look in her eyes.

"As you wish," he said heavily and she smiled.

He bent to kiss the top of her forehead then before shooting a warning look at Aegon who tried his best not to smile before he looked pointedly at Jon who smiled reassuringly. His father was making his way out of the tent then and he followed on after him, trying to clear his head, knowing that he would have to concentrate on this meeting with the banners.

* * *

"So … more wine?" Aegon asked when they had departed.

"Thank you," Dany smiled at him and he leant over to top up her glass.

"Well this is … odd," he said after a few moments of awkward silence.

"That's one word for it," she agreed, lifting her glass to her lips and taking a long drink.

"So … aside from you and Robb getting married what else have I missed at Winterfell?" Jon asked.

"Well," Dany set her glass down, "would you believe me if I told you Theon got married?"

"Theon?" Jon repeated incredulously.

"Theon," she confirmed, "in secret of course, Ser Ralf was furious when he found out"

"By the Gods, why?" he asked.

"Adele was betrothed to some knight in Torrhen's Square and Theon couldn't let her go," she explained.

"Sounds romantic," Aegon put in and Jon snorted.

"You haven't met Theon," he said.

"True enough," Dany smiled, "but … I do think he loves her very much"

"Well I wish her the luck of the Gods, no doubt she'll need it," Jon sighed, taking a sip of wine.

"And your fa – Lord Stark, already mentioned Margaery Tyrell," she said.

"Is she really as beautiful as they all say?" it was Aegon who had asked her.

"Well if you've heard of her beauty across the Narrow Sea then I suppose she must be," Dany smiled in amusement and he grinned.

"Is the baby truly Renly's?" Jon asked then.

"Everyone seems to believe so, I'm sure we'll find out for sure when it's born, you know what was said about the Baratheon seed," she raised her brows.

"Why would it not be his?" Aegon asked with a slight frown.

"It was a well-known secret that Renly preferred the company of men," Jon said meaningfully and his eyes widened in understanding.

"She must be beautiful then," he said after a moment and they all snorted in amusement.

"I don't suppose you ever met my brother did you?" Dany asked him then and Aegon shook his head.

"No, I knew of him, but I never met him," he said and she nodded slightly sadly.

He bit his lip. It wasn't a lie. He had never met Viserys but he had heard plenty about him from the letters Illyrio had sent to Griff. Madness flowed through him just as surely as it had flowed through his father. Dany's father. He glanced at her then and saw her eyes fixed on her half empty glass of wine. Moving his eyes to Jon he saw him looking at her in concern. There was no madness here, he was certain of that and now Dany was married into a family like the Stark's and with luck he and Jon would marry into other houses, he was hopeful that any lingering traces would be snuffed out. There was no point in telling Dany her brother had been a lunatic though. Best she remember whatever image she had conjured up in her head, likely it was far more comforting than the truth would be.

"To Viserys," he said, raising his glass up.

"To Viserys," Jon and Dany echoed, bringing their glasses up to clink with his.

* * *

**A/N: **That went rather well ... thoughts?

Just one thing, for the intents and purposes of this fic Aegon **is** real, I don't know whether he is or not in the books but for this fic he's the real deal so there won't be any questioning his legitimacy - at least not from those allied with him.

More later in the week.

:)


	30. Changing Directions

**A/N: **Next chapter guys! But first I have some guest's to reply to so bear with me!

**Guest #1: **Thank you very much! Since you wanted the next one, here it is.

**Angus Ieun: **Wow thank you, no pressure on this chapter then if you thought the last one was the best yet ;) Thanks for such a lovely review. This story will be one story, I did think about splitting it but I don't see the point. I will write others after this but this is a standalone story. It's no where near finished though so there is plenty more to come which I hope you enjoy. Thanks so much again!

**TheForgottenOne: **If I could label 10 characters in the description I would but I'm limited to four. Jon is there because he is a major part of the story. It might not seem like he's getting a lot of action right now but I suppose I have the luxury of knowing what is coming up for him which is plenty I can promise you that.

**Guest #2: **Thanks for reading once you stumbled upon it. To answer your question. I'm really not sure, right now I have rough notes written out up to chapter 35 but I can tell you now it could end up being double that. So much more to do! A lot, I suppose is the answer!

Thanks to everyone else as well although you should have got my PM's! Anyway, enough holding you up, here's the next chapter. Any feedback would be great as always!

:)

* * *

**Changing Directions **

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

"Well, now that's done with," Stannis slammed the door closed and fixed his eyes on the Tyrell's; "perhaps we can discuss the Capitol?"

Loras seethed, taking the wine that one of the maids was passing around. He hated this. He hated being here, hated sitting in this room with the man who had murdered the love of his life. How his father and grandmother managed to sit and treat and discuss things rationally with such a man he did not know. It was taking everything he had not to pull his sword and ram it through Stannis' chest. That red priestess turned her eyes on him then as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. Perhaps she did. He had heard enough by shaking his coin purse in the right direction, knowing that it was likely her magic that had allowed Stannis to kill Renly. He thought of Margaery then, if all had gone to plan then she would have reached Winterfell by now. Gods he hoped he had done the right thing in sending her there. Surely he had? Eddard Stark had honour; that was one thing Renly had always uttered with such utter certainty. Renly would have trusted him with his wife and unborn child and so that was what Loras had had to do. Of course, Margaery would have had to have got there first and he could only pray that she had. He had told her not to send him any word lest it was intercepted. He was even more pleased with that decision now they were holed up at Dragonstone making deals with the man who had ensured her child would never have a father.

He glanced towards Wilas then and saw that he was listening intently to the plans that were being made to take the Capitol. There would be a fleet organised by Stannis and the armies of Highgarden would march right up to the front gate. If the Lannister's had any sense they would surrender. Having heard tales of Cersei from Renly though he was rather of the opinion that they would rather see the Capitol burn to the ground than surrender the Iron Throne. Still, with news having filtered out that Tywin was dead, there might actually be a chance of winning after all. Without his hold over the Westerlands anything could happen. Personally Loras was hoping that Stannis would die in battle, his red bitch too. Then Shireen would be left as his heir and thanks to her betrothal to Wilas, his family would be in the seat of ultimate power. Perhaps then Margaery would be able to come back. Wishful thinking, he knew that. Still … it was not impossible that Stannis would die … Loras vowed then that if he saw the man in trouble on the battlefield he would do nothing. He would do nothing to help and he would enjoy it.

"So that's settled?" Stannis asked and Loras snapped his attention back to the conversation.

"Simple enough," Olena smiled for him.

"The Lannister's are in disarray, with our combined forces we can win this," Stannis nodded.

"No doubt," Mace agreed, bowing his head.

"And once it is done we can celebrate with a wedding," he said, turning his eyes on Wilas.

"I'm honoured," Wilas said and Loras narrowed his eyes at him.

"Unless there is anything else …" Stannis trailed off.

"That is everything your Grace," Mace stood and bowed.

Loras followed suit, inclining his head before heading straight for the door. Olena helped Wilas to his feet, walking at his side as he limped along with his cane for aid. Mace left last, bowing once more to Stannis and closing the door behind him. Stannis turned his gaze to Melisandre when they had gone and she raised one perfect eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?" he asked her.

"They have thrown their support behind you, there really was nothing else they could do," she said.

"Should I be wary of a knife in my back?" he questioned.

"From the boy perhaps," she told him.

"Loras?" he checked and she nodded.

"I'm sure he would be more than eager to avenge his lover's death … but I don't think he has the nerve," she assured him.

"He best not have," he growled.

"You must feel more secure now," she stated and he nodded slightly.

"Once Shireen is married I can worry less," he agreed.

"You would be even more secure with a son," she said.

"Selyse is unable," he said.

"Such a shame," she said quietly, "it is also a shame that more houses from the Stormlands have not joined your cause"

"They mourn Renly," he practically spat.

"Perhaps if the Swann's joined you …" she tailed off.

"The Swann's?" he repeated, "Have you seen something in the flames?"

"I do not have to see this in the flames to know it would benefit you, aside from your own house they are the most powerful are they not?" she arched a brow.

"They are," he confirmed.

"And if they were to join you … others would surely follow," she told him.

"I have nothing to offer, Shireen was my only tool," he said.

"For now," she agreed.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" he demanded of her.

"All I know I share with you," she soothed, "I am merely counselling your Grace in the absence of your smuggling friend"

"And what would you counsel me?" he asked.

"A King needs two things, a male heir and strong armies at his back, that is all," she said.

"That is all," he repeated, turning to the window and gazing out.

"I'll leave you now your Grace," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she left him alone with thoughts of the Stormlands and a son.

* * *

_Targaryen Camp, near Last River_

* * *

"You would join him?" Robb asked.

"Who else do we have Robb?" Ned returned and his son sighed heavily.

"I don't know," he said moodily.

"Put aside your feelings about Dany and think rationally for a moment," Ned advised him.

"Do you really think the people will believe him to be true?" Robb asked.

"One look and there will be no doubt, the banners are convinced, and so am I," he said firmly.

"I'm going to have to get used to him then," Robb sighed heavily.

"Try and get along with him, it would mean the world to Dany and it will make things a lot easier," he told him.

"I'll do my best," Robb muttered, his eyes finding Dany with Jon and Aegon just outside the tent. She was fussing over Grey Wind and the sight made him smile slightly.

"Best we go and tell him … we have plenty terms to put to him, might be he won't want us after all," Ned tried to joke and Robb's mouth twitched up slightly.

Aegon was the first to see them coming, Ned Stark and his son, followed on by several men and a woman who he assumed must be his banners. He knew that not all of them would be here, those closer to the border were tasked with holding it and making sure the North was warned of any coming invasion. Still, he hoped there were enough of his banners here to convince Ned Stark that he could make this decision. Aegon could be patient but he didn't want to be toyed with – he wanted to know sooner rather than later whether or not he could count on northern support.

"My Lord," he greeted as they approached.

"Your Grace," Ned inclined his head and Aegon raised his brows.

"Does that mean …?" he began.

"We have some terms," Ned cut him off.

"Of course," Aegon nodded, "come, we can discuss them in comfort at least"

Aegon noted some of the Stark banners looking at him slightly suspiciously as they all settled down in the council tent. A few he noticed seemed to look between him and Dany, as though they were deciding if he was Targaryen enough for them. He knew he and Dany looked very alike, they could be brother and sister. It felt strange that she was his aunt when she was in fact younger than him but then nothing about this situation was in the slightest bit normal.

"Your terms?" Aegon invited Ned to speak.

"The North remains as it is," he started, "we supported Robert in the rebellion and as gracious as you are now I have no doubt that part of you must long for revenge"

"I cannot deny that," Aegon agreed.

"None of my banners were responsible for the monstrosities that occurred in the Red Keep," he stated.

"I am well aware of who was responsible," Aegon said.

"And I would support you in seeking them out and delivering justice," Ned nodded.

"The North remains as it is," he nodded in return, "what else?"

"Storm's End will be given over to Renly's widow, her child is the rightful heir. No matter what happened with the throne that has always been the Baratheon seat," Ned said.

"Agreed," Aegon nodded again, "but might I add a condition that once her time of mourning is over and her babe is born that Margaery Tyrell is matched with someone of my choosing?"

"You might," Ned agreed.

"Anything else?" Aegon coaxed.

"Likely the Riverlands and the Vale will join us," Ned said, "being kin to my wife. I would ask the same for them as I did for the North. They too fought for Robert but I would ask you to grant them the same mercy you have promised for the North"

"My Lord, if I destroyed all those houses that declared for Robert I wouldn't have much of a realm left to reign over," Aegon smiled slightly.

"No you wouldn't," Ned agreed.

"I intend to put down the Lannister's responsible and I intend on making Gregor Clegane suffer a thousand deaths, that is all," Aegon promised.

"I can support you in that," Ned nodded.

"They raped and murdered and butchered children to ascend the throne, I do not intend to lower myself to that level," he continued.

"I meant no offence," Ned soothed.

"None was taken," Aegon returned, "are they all your terms Lord Stark?"

"Aye," Ned nodded.

"Then you are with me?" he asked.

"The North is with you," Ned nodded, standing up and holding his hand out to Aegon. Robb watched uneasily as the younger man grasped it. War was coming quicker than he had expected.

* * *

Robb tugged up Dany's skirts as he pressed her even more firmly into the mattress, a moan escaping her as his hand found her bare thigh, coaxing it up around his waist. Her nails scraped down his back then and he moved his other hand to untie his laces, desperate to be with her. Dany tightened her thighs around him as he positioned himself above her, his lips attacking the tops of her breasts that were spilling from her bodice. When he pushed inside her she gasped out in pleasure and he let his lips trail up towards her neck as he began thrusting into her, pushing himself as far as he could go each time. Her hips moved in time with his, their pace quickening as they went on, both of them climbing higher and higher and slowly beginning to lose control. She fisted her hands in his hair then and practically dragged his lips to hers as they continued moving so perfectly together.

Neither of them heard the commotion outside as they continued rocking pleasure through one another, the moans and groans leaving their mouths blocked everything else out as they pushed each other even higher. Dany was so close to the edge now and she told him, told him to hold on so they could tumble down into the depths of pleasure together. Robb promised her that they would, his lips fluttering against hers as he promised her over and over, feeling her sharp breath on his lips as she came closer and closer. She shifted her thigh slightly higher then and when he pushed fully into her on his next thrust he sent her flying. His name left her lips so perfectly as she clenched around him and brought him to his own end. Robb collapsed against her, breathing hard against the soft skin of her neck as her legs shifted back down lower around his waist.

The raised voices and shouts began to reach their ears then through the pleasurable haze and Robb regretfully pushed himself away from her, sliding out of her warmth and lacing himself back into his breeches. Dany in turn shoved her skirts back down and righted her bodice, her hands coming to her hair as she sat herself up and exchanged a puzzled look with Robb. It was the middle of the night, what could possibly be going on? Robb was up then and pulling on his boots, his eyes looking for his shirt which Dany saw crumpled at the end of the bed. He took it from her with thanks before making his way to the flap of the tent. She followed after him even though she knew he would rather she stay in the tent. If something bad had happened then she had a right to know about it as well. That's what she would have told him had he told her to go back but to her surprise he said nothing in protest as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

"What's going on?" Robb asked as soon as he caught sight of a familiar face.

"A raven's come from the Wall," Jon told him.

"And?" Robb asked more impatiently.

"And they're in there arguing," Jon answered.

"About what?" Dany asked curiously.

"The Wall calls for aid … it's under attack," Jon said.

"And father would go," Robb nodded in understanding.

"Exactly," Jon grimaced.

"But Aegon doesn't want to?" Dany guessed.

"He's been waiting a long time for the throne," Jon said.

"Well he can wait a little longer," Robb said heatedly, "the Wall protects us all, he won't have a throne to sit if the Wall falls!"

"Robb," Dany cautioned him.

"What?" he said incredulously, "It's true!"

"Perhaps we could offer some incentive for Aegon to go to the Wall first," Dany said.

"What do you mean?" Robb asked.

"You didn't tell him about the dragons?" Dany asked Jon lowly.

"No," he shook his head, "I said nothing of them"

"Just as well," she nodded, "but now I think it might be time"

"Dany … are you certain about this?" Robb asked.

"We're allied already and we're kin … he would find out in the end," she said.

"What are we waiting for?" Jon raised a brow and gestured to the council tent.

The argument seemed to cease as they walked in and Dany thought it was just as well as several of the northern banners looked as though they would happily begin pulling swords. That would do no good, their new alliance would be broken before it had even begun. Her eyes sought out Aegon's then and she widened them insistently at him. He inclined his head slightly then and she took that to mean that she was free to speak.

"We have dragons," she said at once and he stared at her; "they are not long hatched but they are thriving and they will grow. They could be an asset to us when they grow bigger, but that will take some time and patience. By the time we march to the Wall and deal with the threat likely they will have trebled in size, perhaps more. Aegon … the Wall protects us all, if it were to fall or even be breeched then all of the Kingdom's would be in danger. I don't think Lord Stark would even consider marching us the wrong way unless there was a very real reason"

"There are a hundred thousand very real reasons," Ned stated, "and that's not to mention the walkers"

"Walkers?" Griff snorted.

"My brother says he has seen them with his own eyes and I believe him, Benjen is no liar and nor is he a fool. He would not say such things unless he was certain," Ned snarled.

"Dragons?" Aegon said faintly, his eyes still on Dany.

"Three," she confirmed, "three dragons for three Targaryen's, you know the tales"

"I do," he nodded, his head swimming.

"The Wall can't fall and it can't defend itself from a threat like this," Ned insisted.

"There is no point marching south and ignoring this, if the wildlings get through - which no doubt they will with those numbers – then they will spread across all the Kingdoms and be near impossible to stop. Do you really want to be the King sat on the throne when that happens? The people will be calling for another rebellion in no time and I for one wouldn't blame them," Robb spoke up then.

"Lad's right," the Greatjon sniffed and Robb looked at him in surprise.

"Best stop them now while we know where they are," Jon said quietly.

"Right," Aegon met his eyes and then moved them back to Dany's which widened insistently.

"I am marching my men to the Wall," Ned said, "you can wait here if you like but I don't know how many of us will come back, you can march south without us and take your chances or … you march with us to the Wall and once it is done with we will move south, it's your choice but you need to make it quickly …"

"Aegon … the men we would lose …" Griff started.

"Enough," he said sharply, "I've made my decision, we are allied and we will keep the alliance intact. Best send word out to the rest of your men Lord Stark we may need reinforcements at the Wall"

"Aye," Ned nodded, a relieved smile on his face, "I'll have my wife get word to her brother as well, forces from the Riverlands can take over protection of the border and be waiting for us when we march south"

"We leave at dawn," Aegon nodded, "we ride to the Wall."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Tyrion wished the bells would stop, they were giving him a headache. He was already stood in chains before the Iron Throne, Tommen sat there looking bemused and ever so slightly uncomfortable. He let his eyes scan the crowds for a friendly face but he saw none. What had he expected? Who would stand up for him? He was almost regretting his decision to call for trial by combat now, now that the day was here when his champion needed to materialize. Varys had come and offered to try and persuade the Mountain but Tyrion knew that that would be no good. It would never happen, the great beast was too loyal to Cersei, he had been his father's dog and now he was hers. Perhaps he would have stood a chance with the Hound but he had disappeared after the riots. Tyrion had an inkling that he had not gone alone and judging by Varys' smug expression when he pondered it in his presence he thought he might just be right in thinking that Sansa Stark would soon be safe with her mother. At least she had got out, she was a sweet girl and had not been made for a man like Joffrey or a place like the Capitol. If only he had had more time, he might have been able to smuggle her little friend Jeyne out with her.

He was pulled from his thoughts then as Cersei finally made her entrance, looking every inch the grieving Queen, decked out in black with a mournful expression on her face. Her eyes were cold though and they practically turned to ice in her head when she fixed them on him. He stared back at her impassively. If she wanted a show she could go somewhere else but she was not going to get one from him. Jaime had slipped in behind her and Tyrion caught his eye. He had not seen his brother despite often demanding it. This was the first time and he tried to show Jaime wordlessly that he was innocent. His big brother knew him better than anyone and now was the time he needed him most. He needed him to believe him because if Jaime didn't then what hope did he have? Varys claimed to believe him but the eunuch could not swing a sword to save his own life, let alone Tyrion's. Tommen rose to his feet then but Tyrion barely saw him, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his brother who gazed back at him with none of the coldness of his twin.

"Tyrion Lannister, you have called for trial by combat," Tommen began nervously, "would your champion please present themselves!"

There was silence, deafening silence. Tyrion looked around despite himself and saw that no one had moved so much as a muscle. Some people met his eyes as his own wandered the room but others kept them firmly on their own laps. He saw Cersei's eyes then, saw the tiny tug of smugness at her lips and he wished all at once that whoever had killed their father had finished her off as well. Her expression changed to that of horror then, her eyes moving from his. He moved his own to see what had caught her attention and he could have cried in relief when he saw Jaime stood up. His brother met his eyes then and he couldn't help but send him a smile of immense gratitude.

"I will be his champion," Jaime declared defiantly then.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

She was stood with her back to him, right at the top of the stairs, her hand resting lightly on the rail at her top. What she was doing he didn't know but he approached her anyway, hesitating slightly before placing his hand on the small of her back. She jumped slightly under his touch and he couldn't blame her, it had been a long time since he had touched her with any affection. Even when they still used to share a bed neither of them had ever found any true pleasure in being with one another. Theirs had never been a marriage of love, it had been a necessity. Now though it didn't seem as necessary to Stannis.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I was thinking about Shireen … are we doing the right thing?" Selyse asked.

"We are doing what we must. Sacrifices have to be made if I'm to take the throne," he said.

"But she's our daughter," she protested.

"You were all for this match, what has changed?" he questioned her.

"She's so young Stannis," she turned to face him, her heels barely an inch from the edge of the step.

"They will not marry until she is flowered," he said firmly.

"It feels like we're selling her, using her for our own ends," she said and his eyes narrowed.

"I am doing what I must, this match will benefit her future as much as it will my own!" he snarled.

"But …" she began.

"I want to hear no more about it!" he grasped the top of her arms, "Perhaps if you had delivered me sons all this could have been avoided!"

"I tried!" she snapped back, "You know how much loss I have suffered!"

"We have both suffered!" he corrected her.

"You mourned the loss of your heirs, you didn't know how it felt for me! I lost my babies, the little babies that I loved!" she choked out.

"Enough," he growled, shaking her slightly.

"Is this what it's come to?" she whispered, "You marrying Shireen to a cripple twice her age so you have a chance of taking the Iron Throne?"

"That throne is mine by rights as you well know!" he snapped, "And I will do whatever it takes to win it, do you understand me?!"

"I understand you perfectly," she breathed, barely recognising the look in his eyes.

"I will make whatever sacrifice is necessary," he whispered, moving her back to the edge of the stairs.

"Stannis …" she whimpered fearfully.

"I need a son Selyse," he told her, meeting her eyes.

"Stannis … no …" she pleaded.

"You really ought not to drink so much … it makes you clumsy," he said, pushing her back.

She didn't even scream as she tumbled down the steps. Stannis closed his eyes but he could still hear every sickening snap as she descended. When she finally reached the bottom with a final thud he opened his eyes and took a deep breath before looking down. She wasn't moving. Not even a twitch. If she wasn't dead yet then she soon would be. He turned then and walked towards his own rooms. The guards would find her soon enough and come to him with the news that his wife had tumbled down the stairs. They would be sorry and he would say all the right things. He would wear black and mourn her for an appropriate time. He had already looked into the Swann's. There was a daughter and she was young and healthy. Once Selyse had been laid to rest he would send word. If anything would get them on side it would be the promise of their daughter becoming Queen. Whatever it takes, he had told Selyse and he had meant every word.

* * *

**A/N: **With regard to Stannis ... please remember it's AU. It's all part of the plan ...

Hope you all enjoyed that anyway and I will get another one up for you in a few days as a weekend treat (at least I hope it will be a treat!)

Thoughts would be awesome!

:)


	31. The First Wave

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you all which I hope you'll enjoy. We're (mostly) at the Wall this chapter. Anyway, I'll let you all get on and read it and if you would be so kind as to let me know what you thought of it that would be awesome and much appreciated!

:)

* * *

**The First Wave**

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

_Their hair was pale in the faint light. He reached out for her, wrapping his hands around her waist and she leant into his embrace, one of her hands sneaking up around his neck. The canvas shook slightly around them but neither of them seemed to take any notice as he bent his head to claim her lips. As they kissed her free hand came behind her back and slipped the blade free from the belt that was wrapped around her. She moved it slowly until she was holding it behind his back. Her hand was shaking as she held it there, her lips still moving with his as his hands wandered up and down her back. The grip on the dagger steadied then as she seemed to force herself to hold it still as she pulled it back slightly, her grip tightening as she prepared to plunge it into his back … _

A bark from Summer woke Bran and he sat up with a start, his heart pounding as he blinked furiously, trying to remember every detail of his dream. It felt the same as the dream he had had back at Flint's Finger, as though there was more than a hint of truth to it. He placed his hands to his temples and brought the images back to his head. Something felt familiar about the man in his dream but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps it was the same man that he had seen with Dany and Jon. What if he was Aegon? His heart pounded. The dream had been too real and he somehow knew that wherever this man was he was in grave danger.

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Dusk was falling and they could hear the drum beats and the wildlings horns from the other side of the Wall. Nothing had prepared Benjen for the sight that greeted him when he had ascended in the lift and looked down at them all. He had shared an uneasy glance with the Old Bear as they had gazed out at the seemingly never ending sea of wildlings that spread out before them. After they had stationed the men across the top of the Wall he and the Lord Commander had descended back down to the ground level. The new recruits were down there and Benjen was not afraid to say that more than a few of them repulsed him and made him feel more than uneasy. Biter especially was a man that would need a beady eye on him at all times, Yoren had told him of his past crimes and Benjen was determined that he was kept away from the brothel.

They seemed to be grumbling amongst themselves as Benjen stepped off the lift and he didn't even have it in him to scold them. No one had come. Despite the messages that had been sent out no one had come. Not even Ned. Benjen couldn't deny that that hurt but even deeper down he was terrified. He knew his brother well enough to know that if he could come he would. The fact that he hadn't had worry set deep down inside Benjen and no matter how hard he tried to focus on this upcoming clash he could not erase it entirely. He looked up at the sky then and knew it would be less than an hour before the sun sank completely behind the horizon. He somehow knew that when it did the wildlings would begin their assault. Some of the men had been anxious to begin the battle as soon as wildlings were spotted slipping out of the trees but the Lord Commander had forbidden it. Benjen agreed. Let them start it so they could work out their strategy. They had few men as it was, it was pointless losing numbers until they knew exactly which weaknesses the wildlings would try and exploit. Benjen imagined some would try and scale the Wall but they had defences for that. Others he supposed would try and force the tunnel entrance and he was more than a little uneasy about that as he wasn't completely sure, but he suspected that they had giants with them.

The idea of flooding the tunnel and letting it freeze had been raised but the Old Bear had refused it. How would they go out on ranges? Ranges were the last thing on Benjen's mind right now. Before his last foray beyond the Wall he'd been itching to get out there again. After what he had seen though he would be more than happy to stay here at Castle Black and never go out there again. Even better he would like to return to Winterfell and pretend that he had never joined the Watch in the first place. Ned could help him find a nice wife who would look after him and bear him children. He sighed. Ned. Where was Ned and why hadn't he come? Sent word even? As he thought that, his eyes darting between his own entwined hands and the muttering new recruits, he heard a horn blast. At first he thought the wildlings had decided to start early but then it blasted again and he realised it was coming from the other side. He was hurrying towards the gates in an instant, demanding they be opened. When they did he could have laughed in relief as he saw the banners at the helm of the approaching men. Thousands of them. Tens of thousands. Mance wouldn't stand a chance now, not with the Wall on their side as well.

His eyes slid from the familiar direwolf sigil to the one that was being carried next to it. The three headed dragon. Unmistakeably Targaryen. What in the name of the Gods was going on? What had Ned done?

* * *

When Ned saw Benjen he was off his horse at once, seeing how his younger brother looked at the Targaryen banners with a look of confusion and almost disgust on his face. Benjen had been too young to fight in the Rebellion, he didn't know about the intricacies of the war and all the conflicting emotions that Ned felt about it. He didn't know the truth of Lyanna. He didn't know that Rhaegar wasn't the monster he had been painted to be. It occurred to Ned now that perhaps he ought to have told him. Lyanna was his sister as well after all. It had been easy to let him live in ignorance though, he had been so young and the world was so black and white to him. Targaryen's were bad. Targaryen's killed his father and his brother and stole his sister away. She was dead because of them. Perhaps all that was true but there was so much more to it and Ned wished he had the time to explain all this properly to his brother. He knew he didn't though, night was falling fast and he imagined from the uneasy looks some of the Night's Watch were exchanging that it would not be long until the battle for the Wall began.

"Ned?" Benjen asked as soon as he approached him, his eyes sliding over the banners again.

"I don't have the time to tell you, and even if I did you wouldn't believe me," Ned sighed.

"Tell me what I have to know," Benjen said insistently and Ned sighed again in defeat.

"Robb!" he called out, "Take charge, you and the banners arrange the men where the Lord Commander sees fit!"

"Aye," Robb nodded, sliding down from his own horse and moving down the ranks.

"Over here," Ned took Benjen's arm and led him away from any straining ears.

"What have you done Ned?" Benjen asked him when they were out of earshot.

"Aegon Targaryen isn't dead," he said and his brother stared at him.

"Have you lost your mind?" Benjen whispered.

"He's alive and I believe him to be real … I've promised him my support, he seems a good man and he is kin," Ned explained.

"Kin?" Benjen repeated.

"Robb and Dany have married," he told him.

"That's a tentative link Ned, how can you trust this?!" Benjen demanded.

"There was more to the war than I ever told you," Ned confessed.

"What didn't you tell me?" he asked in a dangerously low voice.

"We all believed Rhaegar took Lyanna against her will," Ned began.

"And raped and murdered her," Benjen spat.

"He didn't," Ned shook his head and Benjen stared.

"What?" he whispered, and Ned could hear the fury in that one word.

"She went willingly with him … he didn't kill her … she … she died because …" Ned tailed off, seeing the darkening look in his brother's eyes.

"Because?" he practically snarled.

"She had a baby," Ned confessed and Benjen looked as though his eyes would pop out of his head before they moved from him to land on Jon.

"Tell me he's not …" Benjen whispered.

"He's hers," Ned nodded, "and that makes him half Targaryen … Aegon's brother"

"All this time?" Benjen asked, accusing eyes back on Ned now.

"Do you understand why I had to name him as my own?" Ned asked him in return.

"I do," Benjen nodded, "but I don't understand why you never told me"

"The fewer people knew the better, you were just a boy at the time," Ned tried to reason.

"Who knew?" Benjen asked.

"Cat," he told him, "only Cat, no one else ever knew … not until I had to tell Jon"

"By the Gods Ned," Benjen shook his head, "that's why she was always so good to him?"

"Aye," Ned nodded his head and Benjen swallowed hard.

"You should have told me," Benjen said, fixing him with a hard stare.

"I should have," Ned agreed.

"Promise me there is nothing else," he said, not moving his eyes away.

"I swear to you," Ned held his gaze and Benjen stared for the longest time before nodding his head.

* * *

Robb could feel the tension between his father and his uncle Benjen as he moved among the ranks of men and drilled them as best he could. They were to stay here and make sure none got through the tunnel if it was breeched. Something had been mentioned about giants and Robb had tried not to appear frightened. He was a man grown and he had to prove to himself and to everyone else that he could do this. He caught sight of Benjen looking at Jon uneasily as he stood in conversation with Aegon and Robb thought it more than likely that his father had told him the truth. It still seemed strange to Robb that Jon wasn't really his brother, he still loved him as a brother but it pained him slightly to see him so friendly with Aegon. His true brother. He couldn't begrudge Jon getting to know his other kin but he still wasn't sure how he felt about Aegon. Not that it mattered. They were allied with him now and he would fight for him at his side no matter how he felt about him. He glanced towards Dany then who was stood apart from the men, chewing slightly on her lower lip. Robb knew he ought to get her somewhere safe and so he asked one of Lord Karstark's sons to take over the drill and moved towards his uncle.

As he did so he noticed one of the men of the Night's Watch looking Dany up and down, an almost animalistic look in his eyes as he practically salivated over her. Robb could just see him undressing her with his eyes and he wanted to gouge them out. She was his wife. And even if she wasn't no man had any right to look her up and down in such a manner as though she was just a common whore whose flesh could be bought. Dany was a highborn Lady. More so, she was a Princess now that they had come out in support of Aegon. He had named her such and she had blushed. Robb had teased her with it later as they lay in bed and she had swatted him away, telling him that she was more than content with the title of being his wife. That had brought a smile to his face and he hadn't been able to resist showing her exactly what her words meant to him. He glanced towards the man with the wandering eyes again as he approached Benjen, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Biter," his uncle said as he reached him.

"Sorry?" Robb frowned, moving his eyes from the man who still had his on Dany.

"The man who is appraising your wife … he's known as Biter," Benjen explained.

"Do I even want to know why?" Robb sighed.

"No," Benjen looked disgusted, "but you ought to keep her far from his reach"

"I was coming to ask you where I can keep her safe," Robb said.

"Best take her down to the kitchens, it's warmest down there and she can have something to eat. She can lock herself in until this is done," Benjen told him.

"Thank you," Robb said meaningfully, "did … did my father speak to you about …"

"He did," Benjen's expression hardened.

"It's hard on everyone," Robb said softly.

"I know that lad," Benjen said, "but she was my sister. Imagine it were your sister and you had spent over half your life imagining that fate for her in your mind"

"I can't," Robb shook his head.

"Even now when I know it's not true I can still see it in my head," Benjen practically snarled.

"Look … I'm not his biggest admirer but … none of it was Aegon's doing, he was a babe," Robb soothed.

"Aye," Benjen agreed, "I know that … best you get your Lady safely away"

Robb knew he was dismissed then, that his uncle wanted to say no more and so he walked towards his wife instead, feeling Biter's eyes on him as he took her hand to lead her away. She said nothing as he walked her into the keep but her hand tightened in his and he returned the pressure, trying not to think the worst. Even if something were to happen to him she would be well taken care of. There were many who would look after her but he prayed they wouldn't have to. That was his job now. He imagined that the kitchens were downstairs and he was relieved to notice that he was right as they descended down. Benjen was right, it was warm. She would be just fine here. Robb scanned the room to make sure that no one else was around before he fixed his eyes on hers.

"Do you have to go?" she whispered.

"It's my duty," he told her.

"I wish you would stay down here with me," she said, lifting her hand to stroke down his cheek.

"And have the Greatjon call me a craven? I would never live it down," he smiled slightly.

"He seems to be growing fonder of you," she said, a smile twitching her own lips.

"He prefers me to Aegon, it's hardly glowing praise," he raised his brows.

"Robb!" she scolded him lightly but he pressed a kiss to her lips before she could say any more.

"Who knows, perhaps we will both prove ourselves to him," he said when he pulled away.

"Promise me that won't be the last kiss you give me," she whispered.

"I promise," he breathed, touching his lips to hers once again.

"I love you Robb," she said, meeting his eyes.

"I love you too," he gazed back for a moment before regretfully stepping away from her; "lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone you don't know do you promise me?"

"I promise you," she nodded and he swallowed hard and forced a smile for her before he left the kitchens, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Jon swallowed hard as the drums began to beat, seeing the line of wildlings begin to advance slowly towards the Wall. Aegon was stood at his side and he glanced uneasily at him, only to see that he was looking down the ranks of men that stood atop the Wall with bows in hand. Jon had a bow of his own, he wasn't a brilliant shot but he was better than Robb and so his father … his uncle, he corrected himself, had asked him to come atop the Wall. Griff had insisted Aegon come up as well, thinking that he would be in less danger up there. Hearing that had only made Jon worry about Robb down hundreds of feet below them. He was with the Greatjon though and Jon was reassured enough by that. Robb was good with the sword, he would be alright should any get through the tunnel. It was up to Jon and the thousands of other archers atop the Wall to ensure that that didn't happen, that any who tried to force their way through were struck down before they had the chance.

"Archers!" the Lord Commander bellowed, "Notch!"

They all seemed to move as one, taking an arrow from the barrels laid out in front of them and notching them into their bows. Wildly Jon thought of Theon and almost wished the man who so got under his skin was at his side now. For all his whoring and impropriety Theon was a perfect shot and Jon felt that he himself shot better when he was around, probably out of sheer determination not to be mocked by him more than anything else. It wasn't Theon at his side though, it was Aegon to his right and some unknown sell sword to his left. He swallowed hard and tried to take a deep breath as the wave of what looked like tiny ants from up here came ever closer.

"Draw!" the Lord Commander shouted.

Again they all moved as one, raising the bows and drawing back the strings. Below them the first wave of wildlings had reached the base of the Wall. Jon remembered what his uncle Benjen had said about some of them trying to scale it. They would be easily picked off Jon imagined but Benjen was of the opinion that they were more to cause a distraction. What they had to focus on were those who were going for the entrance to the tunnel. It was imperative to keep them away. Those scaling the Wall would have to climb for hours and they could worry about them later.

"Loose!" the Lord Commander ordered then and thousands of arrows soared through the air towards those who were advancing on the tunnel entrance.

Benjen had mentioned giants but thankfully Jon could see no sign of them yet as they were ordered to notch another arrow. He had no idea if his first had even hit a target but he knew that with thousands concentrated on such a small area that some at least would have hit the mark. The drew back and loosed again as ordered before the Lord Commander shouted out for them to duck down behind the Wall. Jon did as he was told at once, feeling Aegon drop to his knees beside him. On the other side of him the nameless sell sword was not quick enough. He barely had time to cry out in pain before the force of the arrow that had hit him knocked him off his feet. He seemed to stumble for a moment but before anyone could reach out to him he was lost over the edge. Jon tried not to think of the fall and he tried even harder not to think of the landing.

The Lord Commander was ordering them back up again then and he notched and drew and loosed as he was told to, only locking eyes with Aegon when they were ordered to duck down again. Fewer men were caught out this time but there were still some lost over the edge, some falling backwards, others slumping forwards and falling down towards the enemy. Aegon's eyes were as wide as Jon knew his must be and he knew in that moment that if they both survived this they would be green boys no longer.

* * *

Robb tried not to flinch as another body hit the icy ground. As it was he closed his eyes, not wanting to fix them on what was left of the fallen man. The first time a body had hit the ground he had almost cried out. Thankfully he hadn't. The Greatjon would never have let him live that down. He longed to know what was happening up there and beyond the Wall. Benjen had said it was likely that barrages of arrows would be exchanged for hours, both sides picking off what men they could. Later in the night he imagined they would bring forth the giants and try to force the gates. Robb had tried not to let anyone see the shake in his hands when his uncle had said that. _Giants. _Gods. When the war had started he knew he would end up fighting eventually, but he had imagined that when the time came he would be fighting men, not giants. He thought of Dany down there in the kitchens then and determined that no matter what happened to him there was no way any wildling nor any giant nor any other beast or man would get through that tunnel. The thought of what could happen to her if they found her made him want to retch. He slid his eyes to the man named Biter then and clenched his fist a little more tightly around the hilt of his sword.

A shout from behind drew his attention then and he whipped his head around, looking away from the tunnel entrance for the first time in what felt like hours. He didn't need the shouts and warnings of the men further back, he had already seen the problem. They had been so focused on the tunnel entrance that they had missed the grappling hooks been thrown over the walls. Had missed the wildlings spilling over. They had made their arrival clear now though and Robb pulled his sword from his sheath as the men around him did the same. There was no time to organise them, this was a fight and it was already upon them. The Greatjon threw himself into the mix and Robb moved after him, pulling his sword up to clash against a wildling as he did so, seeing the almost maniacal glint in the man's eyes. No doubt he saw him as a boy but Robb had been taught how to wield a sword well. He knew the best way to clash steel, to wrong foot an opponent and have him lying flat on his back with the blade pressed to his throat. Only in the tiltyard he would move the blade away, usually share a joke and a smile with the man he had defeated before offering his hand to help him up.

This time he would have to slash his steel across the man's throat before moving it up again to clash against the next opponent. There would be no time to draw breath, no time to take a drink from a water skin and limber himself up for the next go round. All Robb could think of was Winterfell then and how much he wanted to go home. If he wanted to go home he would have to kill this man, and then another and another until they were finished. He steeled himself, shifted his grip on the hilt of his sword slightly and moved his feet differently. It worked, the wilding hesitated just long enough for Robb to see weakness and he didn't miss his chance, driving the blade into the man's side as far as he could. The roar of pain sounded deafening to him, the rush of warm blood over his hands made him feel sick but he forced down his revulsion and wrenched the steel free from the man who slumped down to the ground. As predicted he needed to quickly move his sword up to clash against another. This man had a small axe and was rather clumsy with it, Robb was almost embarrassed at how easy it was to best him, stepping over his dead body and meeting another opponent after mere seconds.

From what he could tell his own men were winning, the Greatjon seemed to be in his element as Robb skirted round the bodies littering the ground to find another wildling to clash with. Their number were few now, he could see that now he finally had a moment to really look around and appraise the situation. His father had taught him that he always needed to be aware, be in control of the situation if he was to be a commanding and skilled leader that his men would respect. He took a breath then, his eyes scanning the scene as his heart pounded. They would win this. There were only minutes left, if that. Just as he came to that conclusion his eyes found a lone archer reaching back to pull an arrow from her quiver. Even from a distance Robb could see the wildling's eyes trained on the Greatjon who was cutting so quickly through the remaining enemies that it was almost frightening. He didn't stop to think, he ran as the archer notched the arrow and drew back the bow, adjusting her aim as she prepared to loose. Robb was too far away so he did the only thing he could think of a let out a roar of fury that distracted the archer for just a second. It was all the time Robb needed to barrel into her, knocking the wind from her as he pinned her to the ground. It would be ever so easy for him to slit her throat but something stopped him and he knew it was because she was a woman.

She didn't seem to have any qualms about trying to kill him though as she raised her hand and tried to stab him with her arrow. He was too quick for her, enclosing her hand in his, his grip so strong that the arrow snapped in half and he saw the pain in her eyes although he imagined that she was too stubborn to let a whimper escape her. He tossed the pieces of the arrow away then and slowly moved away from her, keeping his blade a fraction away from her throat. She kept her eyes on his and slowly raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. Robb felt others come up behind him then and felt safe to move his sword away. He offered her his hand then and she took it and he pulled her up to her feet, his eyes still on hers, just waiting for her to do something stupid.

"My Lord?" one of the men behind him questioned.

"Bind her hands and feet and take her into the keep," he ordered.

"Aye my Lord," he agreed coming forward with a comrade to take the wildling woman by the arms.

"Are there any others?" Robb asked.

"Couple injured," another man answered him.

"Tend to them, they might be of use," Robb told him as he sheathed his sword.

"Aye my Lord," he nodded to him.

"Is there news from atop the Wall?" Robb asked them then.

"They're backing off for the night, Lord Commander thinks they were testing our defences, likely they'll come at us again in a day or two," someone answered him.

"Wonderful," he said dryly and the men smiled faintly before turning to do as he bid them.

"You saved my life there lad, even if it was a foolish move," the Greatjon said as he walked towards him.

"My father would never forgive me if I let one of his favoured banners get felled by an arrow," Robb replied, meeting the older man's eyes.

"Not such a green lad after all," the Greatjon managed a smile as he held his hand out.

"No," Robb agreed, taking it, "not anymore."

* * *

**A/N:** That's just the first wildling attack. They'll be back ;)

Thoughts?

:)


	32. Judgement Day

**A/N: **We're all in King's Landing this chapter and you may be able to guess why from the title ;)

Hope you guys all enjoy the update, it will be the last one before Christmas but I will get another one or two up for you before the New Year.

Anyway, hope you all have a really great holiday and enjoy yourselves!

Any comment on this would be a great Christmas gift for me ...

:)

* * *

**Judgement Day**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

It was a little before dawn when Jaime fastened his cloak around him and walked from his rooms. The keep was eerily quiet but for the sounds of his boots against the stones. He passed guards, stood as still and silent as the walls they leant against. Not one of them said a word to him and he was glad of it. He was in no mood for idle greetings and chatter with these people. There was just one person he wanted to speak with right now and he inwardly prayed that it would not be the last time that he did so. Both of their fates were in his hands today. If he lost then both he and Tyrion were doomed. He would be dead and gone and soon his little brother would join him. He wondered vaguely if they would end up in the same place but quickly stopped. Tyrion was no monster, he was not the man his sister wished he was. Jaime was the monster. He knew that all too well. If things went badly he would end up in the seven hells with Aerys Targaryen and his father. He would never see his little brother again.

As he approached the prison he shivered slightly. Thinking about Tyrion down in that dank, cold, miserable place almost made him despise his sister. His sister that he thought he would only ever love. When he looked in her eyes now he could see nothing of the sweet girl that he had fallen in love with, that he was half of. She was supposed to be his missing piece. She was supposed to be the part of him that made him a whole. She had been the one to tell him that they only worked together and Jaime had never doubted her. Not until now. He knew she had never really loved or cared for Tyrion as he did but he had never thought it possible she would sink to such depths. In his heart he knew that Tyrion was innocent and he was certain that Cersei knew it as well. He didn't know who had killed their father but he knew that it wasn't their little brother. She was beyond reason though. She had done nothing but beg and plead with him and try and coax him into changing his mind with her words and her touch, trying to manipulate him with her body the way she had always managed before.

It wasn't working now though. When she touched him he didn't feel the desire, he felt revulsion. He was repulsed at the lengths that she would go to just to try and get him to change his mind about being Tyrion's champion. He would never change his mind. He would fight for his brother and then he would win. Once it was done they would both leave. He would do what his father asked and take over Casterly Rock, he would marry a woman and she would bear him children. True children that he would be allowed to claim as his own. Tyrion would come with him, he would help him run the Rock, he always had more brains than Jaime and together they would make a formidable team he was sure of it. Jaime barely spared a glance for the guards who let him in with muttered greetings and formalities, his mind was only focused on his brother. He did manage to thank the guard who opened Tyrion's cell for him and he swallowed, forcing a smile to his face before he stepped inside and saw Tyrion already awake and sat on the edge of what he could only imagine to be a most uncomfortable bed.

"Shouldn't you be resting, you have rather a fight on your hands today," Tyrion said, raising a brow.

"I wanted to see you," Jaime returned.

"Why?" he asked, "Come to make sure you're doing the right thing … that I'm innocent"

"I know you're innocent Tyrion, one look into your eyes told me that," Jaime said.

"Cersei must have tried to talk you out of it …" he looked at him pointedly.

"She has not succeeded," Jaime assured him.

"Who is her champion?" Tyrion asked him then, shifting over so Jaime could sit next to him.

"She has yet to decide," Jaime said lightly.

"Surely she would just choose the Mountain and be done with it," Tyrion stated.

"One would think so," he said wryly.

"Perhaps she's worried you would lose," Tyrion met his eyes.

"I suppose it all hinges on whether she loves me more than she hates you," Jaime said quietly.

"A dangerous gamble Jaime," he breathed.

"You know me Tyrion … live by the sword …" Jaime tailed off.

"I'd rather neither of us die by it," Tyrion said darkly.

"That would be my favoured outcome," he smiled.

"You say you know I'm innocent," Tyrion started.

"I do," Jaime held his gaze.

"That still means that someone is guilty," he fixed him with a pointed look and Jaime swallowed hard.

* * *

The Mountain.

Osney.

The Mountain.

Osney.

Cersei paced up and down, the two names the only thing in her head as she continued pounding across the floor of her chambers. People would expect her to choose the Mountain, but the thought of him facing Jaime made her feel sick. What if Jaime couldn't beat him? Could she really stand to lose half of herself? Could she really live without him? She was angry with him. Livid in fact. But the last thing she wanted was to see him die, be crushed by the brute strength of the Mountain. Jaime would best Osney easily but then that little monster would go free. Cersei continued her pacing. Up and down, up and down, until finally she came to her decision. She wrenched open the door and asked one of her guards to fetch him to her and then she sat down in her chair and poured a glass of wine. She would need more than one if this was to work. She couldn't lose Jaime. But she couldn't let Tyrion free either. She gulped down her wine and told herself it was the only way.

When the knock sounded she put down her glass and put on her best smile before calling for her visitor to come it, tugging down the bodice of her dress slightly as she did so. His eyes went straight to her breasts and she let her smile widen before she turned her eyes on him, letting them wander his body, seeing the lust in his own. What he wouldn't give to fuck his Queen. He would give her what she wanted and letting him inside her just once seemed like a reasonable price to pay for everything she had ever dreamed of. She stood slowly and wandered towards him, placing her hand on his chest and toying with the lacings of his doublet.

"You're a fine man," she said lowly, "a loyal man …"

"Yes your Grace," he breathed deeply under her touch.

"I'm going to name your brother my champion," she told him, loosening his ties.

"Osfryd?" he sounded suspicious and she loosened his doublet still further.

"My brother is a fool … but I cannot have him die," she said.

"But then my brother will die," he frowned slightly at her.

"I want the Imp dead but I can't lose Jaime," she told him, meeting his eyes.

"Why are you telling me this your Grace?" he asked.

"Jaime will win, you will be one step closer to being your father's heir," she raised her brows.

"Your Grace …" he began.

"No glory ever came to a third son … but you could have such glories," she said seductively.

"What would you have me do your Grace?" he asked her.

"You will wait in the Imp's rooms and when he returns, likely drunk over his _freedom,_" she snarled, "you will make sure he never leaves again"

"What do I get in return?" he asked then, his eyes clouded in lust as they met hers.

"A King's pleasure," she whispered.

His hand came to toy with a lock of her hair then and she knew she had him. At least he wanted her; that at least had to be more bearable than having Robert between her thighs. She forced a smile to her face then and his other hand came to fist in the skirt of her dress. Seemed he wanted his payment upfront. _So be it, _she thought, _whatever it takes to rid me of that little monster. _She turned in his arms, the last thing she wanted was to look into his eyes while he took his pleasure from her. He didn't seem to mind, his hands gathering up her skirts as he manoeuvred her further into the room. She let herself bend over the end of the bed as he pushed her skirts up over her hips, his hands moving away to unlace himself. His hand came between her legs then and she couldn't help the little gasp of surprise, she had expected him to fuck her and have done with it. She couldn't deny that he seemed to have some skill when it came to pleasing a woman, his fingers moved rather deftly and she was wet despite herself and almost ashamed. Perhaps he would be able to make her come, only Jaime had ever made her come but she wondered if Osney would.

Cersei gripped the bedpost as his hand came away, her eyes trained on the vast expanse of her bed, glad that he was not insisting on fucking her there. After Robert was killed she had had the bed replaced, had a new one made where she promised herself that she would only make love to Jaime. At least this way she would not be breaking that promise. She swallowed hard, feeling Osney move himself behind her, his hands coming to grip her hips. He was inside her in one sharp thrust and she couldn't help but cry out, his pace was quick but he rocked himself deep each time and she couldn't deny the pleasure that he brought her, her nails digging into the bedpost, bracing herself as the whole bed began to shake. Grunts of pleasure left his own mouth as he continued on and before she knew it she was rocking her own hips back to meet his pace, forgetting who it was pounding into her and just letting the pleasure take her over. Perhaps this was not such a sacrifice after all. She was going to come and she could tell that he knew it too as he groaned out, his fingertips digging hard into the flesh of her hips as she crashed down around him. Gods it felt good. She had not felt that release in what felt like forever, Jaime had not succumbed to her charms recently but it seemed she could replace him in the bedchamber at least until he finally came around to her way of thinking.

* * *

Tyrion's words were ringing in his ears as Jaime pounded down the hallways towards Cersei's chambers. He had been so stupid. He had been so caught up in proving Tyrion's innocence that he hadn't even given any thought to who it was that truly murdered their father. He was so fucking stupid. He was thinking of everything then. _Everything. _The conclusion he was reaching was not a happy one and he was so angry that he just threw open her door without knocking.

"Jaime?!" she said breathlessly, stepping back from the man in the room with her.

Jaime recognised him after a moment as one of the Kettleblack's, which one he didn't care. His presence made him falter though, what was he doing in Cersei's chambers? He looked at her properly then and saw her ruffled appearance, the way she couldn't quite meet his eye and the faint glaze of pleasure in her green orbs that he had assumed that only he was able to put there. Kettleblack looked smug, satiated. A man who had just enjoyed a good fuck with the most forbidden fruit of all – his Queen. Jaime wasn't even sure what he was feeling but he knew if Kettleblack didn't leave now then he would wind up killing him and then perhaps his sweet sister as well.

"Ser Osney was just leaving," Cersei said then, composing herself.

"Was he?" Jaime snarled.

"Your Grace," Osney bowed deeply and swept his eyes hungrily over her body before he left.

"I thought you could sink no lower," Jaime said in a dangerously low voice.

"What are you talking about Jaime?" she asked him haughtily, moving to pour herself some wine.

"I'm talking about _you!_" he snapped, tearing her covers and furs from the bed and throwing them every which way, ripping through the fine silk with his bare hands; "Fucking _him!_" he raged on and she flinched as he tore apart her bed, watching slightly fearfully as he picked up the pillows and launched them across the room; "What was in it for you Cersei?!" he demanded as he continued on, feathers beginning to fly now as he ripped open a pillow before pulling on the under-sheet.

"Jaime!" she cautioned him, suddenly remembering; "Jaime don't!" she grabbed at his arm and he froze.

For a moment she thought that he had stopped for her but then she felt how tense he was under her touch and she swallowed hard as he shrugged her off him and moved closer to the bed. She wanted to do something to stop him but she was powerless as his hand reached out for the hint of blue silk that was sneaking out from under her mattress. She had meant to get rid of it but everything had happened so quickly and she had barely been left alone for two minutes. It had seemed too dangerous to her but seeing Jaime slowly tug it free made her heart feel as though it would explode. This right here was truly dangerous. Some part of her was convinced in that moment when he turned to look at her with her blood stained dress in his hands that he would kill her himself.

"Jaime …" she whispered.

"It was you," he said faintly, almost in amazement; "all the way here I was trying to convince myself otherwise but here is the proof …"

"Jaime please," her eyes filled with tears.

"How could you?" he whispered, looking at her as though he had never seen her before.

"I did it for us Jaime!" she cried desperately.

"For us?" he repeated incredulously, feeling the strongest desire to laugh.

"Yes for us! I begged him! I pleaded with him not to part us but he _wouldn't listen!_" she pleaded.

"So you killed him?" he stared at her, who was this monster who had taken over his sweet sister?

"I didn't mean to … it just happened, but it was done Jaime and once it was done I knew that you and I could be together … everything I have done I have done for us!" she implored him.

"Did you imprison Tyrion for us? Do you want him dead for us?!" he spat and she flinched.

"Jaime please …" she reached out to touch him but he recoiled.

"You accused him for yourself because you have never been able to love him!" he accused her.

"He killed our mother!" she screamed.

"You can't truly mean that," he shook his head.

"He is a monster," she said venomously and Jaime truly didn't recognise her anymore.

"You're the monster," he said, "and before the day is done everyone will know it. This trial is a farce but I promise you your own will be very real."

With that he turned on his heel and pounded away before she could say another word. Her hands were shaking as she looked down at them and she could practically feel her whole world falling apart. What had she done? Perhaps she should have just let Tyrion go … perhaps if she caught up to Jaime now and promised to free him then he would forgive her. He would wouldn't he? He loved her didn't he? He was part of her wasn't he? She remembered the look in his eyes then and she knew at once that there would be no talking him round this time. She went for the door and demanded her guard have Osney brought back before her. He practically sprinted away and she returned to her chamber and began pacing up and down again until the knock sounded. She ordered him in at once and he grinned lazily at her, coming close and running a finger down her cheek. Damn it all. She didn't have time for all of this.

"You summoned me your Grace," he smirked.

"I need you to do something for me," she said hurriedly.

"It will cost you," he breathed in her ear, running his fingers under her bodice and toying with her breast.

"You can have whatever you want," she said at once and his movements became surer.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said huskily.

"After," she stepped away from him, "you do as I ask"

"What do you want from me your Grace?" he raised his brows in expectations.

"I want you to go to Ser Jaime, I want you to make sure something is slipped into his wine to incapacitate him. He must not attend the trial do you hear me?" she hissed.

"I hear you," he nodded.

"Incapacitate," she repeated, "if he doesn't wake I will tear you apart myself"

"I understand," he met her eyes.

"Good," she said with finality.

"My reward?" he questioned her.

"The pleasure of my company tonight," she answered and a satisfied smile spread across his face.

"I won't fail you your Grace," he bowed.

"You'd better not," she said smoothly but he heard the underlying threat as he left her rooms.

* * *

Tyrion was getting restless. Jaime had yet to appear even though Osfryd Kettleblack was already prowling around the arena where Tyrion's fate would be decided. It seemed like Cersei's love for Jaime had won out over her hatred for him. Jaime would best Osfryd easily and then Tyrion would be free. The first thing he planned on doing was getting as far away from the Capitol as possible. He didn't know where he would go, only that he had to. Cersei would not be at all pleased at his release and he definitely didn't put it passed her to have him smothered in his sleep. He shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, trying to push down his heightening panic. Where in the name of the Gods was he? Tyrion knew that his brother was not the most punctual of people but he had hoped that he would turn up on time given that his life was at stake. He glanced at Cersei then and saw a smug little smile playing on her lips as Osney Kettleblack whispered something in her ear. Nothing that made Cersei look like that could ever be good. He wondered absently what would happen if Jaime didn't materialize. If he didn't produce a champion then what would happen? Would he be condemned or would the trial be rescheduled to another day? From the look on his sister's face he imagined that it was likely to be the former and he swallowed hard.

Gods where was Jaime?

Cersei could see him, shifting nervously from foot to foot. She wondered how long she would make him stand there and suffer before she got up and declared Ser Osfryd the winner in the absence of Tyrion's own champion. _A little longer, _she thought to herself. Once this farce was over with his head would be parted from his shoulders and she would no longer be able to enjoy these little triumphs over him. She pushed away the thought of how angry Jaime would be when he woke. He would forgive her in the end. He had to, they were two halves of a whole. One of them would not be able to survive without the other one. She swallowed then, sending a gloating expression towards Tyrion as she rose gracefully to her feet. She could see the fear in his eyes and she knew at once that he knew his fate and for one shining, glorious moment she revelled in knowing that she had won.

"In the absence of your champion I can do nothing but declare Ser Osfryd Kettleblack the winner and you Tyrion Lannister are found guilty of murder. You are hear-by sentenced to death at the King's pleasure," Cersei declared, her voice echoing around the packed arena as everyone seemed to turn at once to fix their eyes on Tyrion.

"More like the mad Queen Regent's pleasure," he muttered under his breath.

"King Tommen has decreed that he would show mercy to his uncle though he scarce deserves it," his sister continued, her smirk evident to everyone; "the traitor will have his head severed from his shoulders in a quick mercy … the King does not wish to prolong his uncle's suffering"

"How gracious," Tyrion managed a mocking smile, trying his best to ignore his pounding heart and not think about how few beats it had left.

"Gracious indeed," Cersei agreed, throwing him a look of contempt; "guards! Prepare the prisoner for his final journey!"

His guards stepped up behind him then and he realised that he would not even be given one more night in this world. Cersei wanted him finished here and now and despite his pounding head and heart he somehow knew that she wanted it done before Jaime reappeared. She had done something to prevent him coming and standing as his champion; that must be the true reason she picked the Kettleblack stooge over the Mountain. He wanted to cry then. He wanted to weep and cry out for his brother. He just wanted to see his brother one more time. Instead he walked numbly where his guards guided him, barely able to see, able to focus on where they were leading him. He met Cersei's smug satisfaction with a look of defiance as he was led passed her.

"I know it was _you,_" he snarled at her and she faltered, "and so does Jaime … enjoy life without him sweet sister … enjoy being all alone …"

He said no more but he saw her blanch, her eyes no longer gloating but fearful and he knew he had struck a nerve. He wasn't so foolish as to believe that his words would change her mind but it gave him some sort of grim satisfaction that even though she might enjoy his demise for a time she would pay for it forever because Jaime would never forgive her. Sometimes he wondered if they were truly twins because sometimes Cersei just did not understand Jaime at all. If she had any thought in her mind that she would be able to charm her way back into his affections she was sorely mistaken. The bells began to toll then just as he was about to be led out of the arena and to wherever it was that Cersei had decided to have him executed.

"A bit premature don't you think?" he quipped to his guards but he saw that they looked troubled.

"What is it?!" Cersei demanded and his uncle Kevan was pushing through the crowds in an instant.

"Wait," Tyrion said and to his surprise his guards halted so he could look back.

"Stannis!" Kevan declared, "Stannis is at the gates and the Blackwater is swarming with his ships!"

"What?!" Cersei looked as though she might explode and people began exclaiming at once, some women even screamed and people were pushing to get out of the arena at once, no doubt desperate to get back to their families and hole themselves up until this passed. Tyrion wasn't so sure it would pass though as he tried to hear what Cersei and Kevan were saying above the increasingly noisy crowd. It took him a moment to realise that in the jostling and the shoving he had become separated from his guards. Before he could decide which way to escape a hand clamped down on his shoulder and he looked up to see who had a hold of him.

"With me my Lord," Varys said, urgency in his eyes as the panic surrounding them grew still further.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed, do let me know!

Happy Christmas to you all and I will get another one up for you at the end of the week!

:)


	33. Abandoned

**A/N: **Hey guys! Hope you all had an amazing Christmas, here's a new chapter for you all. Hope you enjoy it and as ever, thoughts would be much appreciated!

:)

* * *

**Abandoned **

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jaime stirred awake slowly, the sound of the bells ringing through his pounding head as he blinked himself awake. Tyrion. Oh Gods the trial. He pulled himself up, his hand knocking against his wine glass and sending it smashing against the stones. Cersei. Damn it all he should have known better. It was only a small measure to calm his nerves before he went out there to save his little brother. He should have known she would stop at nothing to stop him. To save herself. Something that felt like hatred towards her was pounding through his veins now as he rubbed his hands across his face and tried to will away the ache in his head. He would be no good to Tyrion like this. The bells went on and on and were not helping his headache at all. Damn it all. He stood shakily then and was about to take a step towards the door when it burst open.

"You!" he snarled, "you poisoned me you bitch!"

"Never mind that now Jaime!" she snapped at him, fear in her eyes.

"Never mind …" he trailed off, really looking at her; "what's happened?"

"You were right Jaime, we're going to lose this!" she said in a panicked tone.

"What are you talking about?!" he demanded, grasping her shoulders.

"Stannis is at the gates, he has the might of Highgarden and the Stormlands at his back and his fleet has us surrounded on the water as well!" she told him desperately.

"Stannis?" he repeated.

"Jaime please!" she pleaded, "I know I've done bad, bad things but I swear to you I love you! You were right, we should go, we should take the children and we should go! We can go to the free cities and start a life where no one knows us! I'm ready Jaime, I promise you I will never do anything so monstrous again! Tyrion has gone Jaime, he escaped and I swear to you that I will do nothing to hunt him down! Please Jaime, say we can go – say we can go and save our children! Say that you still love me!"

He swallowed hard and looked into her shining eyes that were the mirror image of his own. Looked into the eyes of the woman he had loved for his entire life, seeing the begging and the pleading in them. He could stand it no longer. He closed his own and took a deep breath and when he opened them again he knew exactly what he had to do.

"Go to the Godswood," he told her; "speak to no one, I will get the children and I will come to you. We'll leave through the mud gate and we'll get away"

"We will?" she whispered, her eyes back on his and pleading again.

"Wait for me Cersei, I'm going to save our children," he told her, meeting his eyes and she nodded.

"I love you Jaime," she whispered, clutching his face in her hands for a moment before kissing him hard on the mouth. She turned to leave then, casting one look back at him before she fled. As soon as she left him he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth before making his own way down the hallways.

The place was in uproar but he said nothing to anyone as he made his way towards the playroom where he hoped both Tommen and Myrcella were. His head felt like it was splitting in two but he had never felt so certain of anything in his entire life before. This was the right thing. This is what he should have done a long time ago but he had been so blinded by his forbidden love of Cersei to realise what she truly was. Now he knew and he knew that he could not allow her to poison Tommen and Myrcella the way she had poisoned Joffrey. They were sweet children and they needed protecting, the only regret he had was that it was their own mother they needed protecting from.

"Ser Jaime!" the nursery maid jumped to her feet at once when he entered, her face white and scared; "I did not know what to do, I thought the Queen would come"

"The Queen has sent me for the King and the Princess," he said calmly.

"What are we to do Ser?" she asked him fearfully.

"I fear the Capitol will be taken, find somewhere safe and stay there," he urged her.

"What about the little children?" she asked, looking at them with a pained expression.

"Nothing will happen to them while I still draw breath," he promised her and she looked instantly placated and nodded her head.

Jaime moved to pick Tommen into his arms then and grasped Myrcella's hand in his, pulling her from the room and hurrying them down the hallways and steps, down the secret ways that he had discovered from his time in the Kingsguard. _Gold. _He suddenly thought, his footsteps faltering as they reached the door that would lead them down to a hidden jetty. Smugglers used it he knew that, and he also knew they would sail him wherever he wanted for a purse of gold and ask no questions. But in his haste he had left his gold behind. Damn it all. He looked back up the steps in despair. If he left them here and told them to be quiet and wait for him would he have enough time to grab the gold and get back before Stannis took the Capitol? He didn't know, but it didn't seem like he had much choice. He lowered Tommen to his feet and knelt down to their level to look into their frightened eyes.

"What's happening uncle Jaime?" Myrcella asked him.

"Silly uncle Jaime has forgotten his gold for the boatman," he tried to smile reassuringly.

"Are we going on a boat?" Tommen asked, his eyes widening.

"Once I get my gold, you two promise to stay here and keep very quiet," he stressed.

"We promise," Myrcella nodded.

"Where's mother?" Tommen asked.

"She's busy," he lied, "but I'm going to take care of you alright?"

"Alright uncle Jaime," Tommen nodded, his eyes innocent and unsuspecting.

"Wait right here," Jaime urged them again and they nodded obediently.

He took the steps two at a time and bumped right into Varys at the top of them. The eunuch didn't look surprised to see him, in fact, he smiled widely and reached his hand into his robes to pull out a fat coin purse that clinked loudly. Jaime thought that that may well be the sweetest sound he had ever heard at that moment.

"Your brother thought you may have need of this," Varys passed it to him.

"Where is he?" Jaime asked.

"I've got him away," Varys nodded, "where will you go?"

"We'll sail to Saltpans and then ride across the Riverlands to the Rock," Jaime told him.

"I will make Stannis aware that horses are missing and you were overheard making plans to ride across the Reach," Varys said.

"Why?" Jaime asked him, his eyes wide.

"Enough innocent blood has been spilled in this keep, and I owed Tyrion a favour," he replied.

"Where has Tyrion gone?" Jaime asked.

"That I don't know," Varys replied and Jaime wasn't sure whether he was telling the truth.

"Right," he said, he didn't have time to grill the eunuch; he needed to get himself and the children out of here.

"Oh … Ser Jaime, there is one favour your brother did ask of you," Varys called him back.

"What's that?" he frowned as he turned back to face him.

"Come out my dear," Varys said and a young girl materialized from the shadows, looking as though she was shaking slightly.

"What is this?" Jaime asked him suspiciously.

"Lord Tyrion was keeping her safe from Joffrey and the Queen, she is Jeyne Poole – a companion of Sansa Stark. I do believe Littlefinger had her housed at a brothel until Tyrion put a stop to it. She had been housed in his quarters but since his arrest I have had to conceal her in my own," Varys explained, "Tyrion believed she would be safer with you"

"Come then," he nodded his head towards the stairs and Jeyne hesitated slightly before walking shakily towards them.

"What did Littlefinger do to her?" Jaime asked when she had disappeared.

"Oh personally I doubt he did a damn thing," Varys sighed, "as to what she suffered before your brother rescued her I cannot say, no doubt far more than any girl of her age should"

"Perfect," Jaime sighed heavily, as if his journey wouldn't be difficult enough.

* * *

_The Twins _

* * *

Sansa's eye widened as the two great towers loomed up in the setting sun. She glanced at Edmure then who was riding next to her but his expression was unreadable. He had been in rather an odd sort of mood along the journey. Sansa knew that her mother had written to him that men were needed to help protect the borders as her father had called his own men to the Wall. Edmure had explained that the wildlings had organised themselves into an army and were determined to bring it down. She had been horrified at that but at least now she knew that she would be going back to Winterfell. Edmure had promised to leave some of his own men garrisoned along the border and take a party of two thousand to Winterfell itself. Sansa knew the reason he was irritated about it was that he had had to leave his father behind at Riverrun. It also meant that he wouldn't be able to take his new wife straight home once he had wed her. Sansa had been surprised that he had agreed to marry one of Walder Frey's daughters after he had been so dismissive of them before his meeting with his sons. It seemed Roslin Frey's portrait had charmed him though and even though he didn't say such a thing out loud, Sansa knew that he was looking forward to taking her as his wife. It was lucky that they were almost there now as the wedding was set to take place at sundown.

"Are you nervous?" Sansa asked her uncle then and he turned to smile at her.

"I expect she is more nervous than I," he said and Sansa blushed slightly.

"My Lord?" Olyvar piped up behind him and Edmure turned to look at him.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Is it true you are heading north once you have wed my sister?" Olyvar asked him.

"It is," Edmure said slightly suspiciously.

"I wonder if you would have use of a squire?" he said, raising his brows hopefully.

"You wish to come to the North?" Edmure looked sceptical.

"It might help my sister to have a familiar face around her," Olyvar persuaded.

"Very well," Edmure sighed in defeat and Olyvar smiled widely, his eyes sliding to Sansa who caught his interested gaze and blushed even more furiously before averting her eyes.

* * *

Sansa wondered if she could slip away as the wedding celebrations continued. Really she knew she couldn't but watching old Walder Frey practically salivate over his young wife who was of an age with Sansa, if not younger, was making her feel rather ill. All the men seemed drunk and many of the women seemed to have disappeared. She glanced up at the high table and saw that her uncle Edmure had eyes for no one but his new wife who was smiling widely at him as they conversed together, their heads so close they were almost touching. Sansa was glad that her uncle seemed happy and that his bride seemed to be as well but she herself was feeling intensely uncomfortable as more than one man had sent a lecherous look her way as she sat just down from the high table and tried to look inconspicuous. People assumed she was a Tully but Edmure had not named her officially and no one had asked. She had had curious glances sent her way but no one had outright asked who she was and she was glad of it. Best she remained no one until she was back in the North where she belonged.

Walder Frey rose shakily to his feet then and Sansa looked towards him politely, taking a sip from her wine glass as he clapped his hands together loudly to call everyone's attention. Even Edmure and Roslin looked round at him and for the first time Sansa saw something other than happiness on the bride's face. She instantly paled slightly and her smile faltered a little.

"The bedding!" Walder called and Roslin's expression suddenly made sense to Sansa.

The men seemed to prowl towards her and had Sansa been in her position she had no doubt that she would have shrunk away from them. In the same instant the women went for Edmure, many of them giggling uncontrollably as they led him down from the high table and began tugging at his clothing as they moved him towards the door. The men pulled Roslin along after him, their hands pawing at her as she tried to keep her smile on her face. There was fear evident in her eyes though and Sansa averted her own, turning instead to her almost empty glass of wine. She had no desire to watch the culmination of the bedding ceremony, deciding to wait until they had disappeared from the hall and slip back up to her own chamber.

"Are you alright my Lady?" she recognised the man as Olyvar Frey, her uncle's new squire.

"Fine," she managed a smile for him, "just tired from the day is all"

"You did not participate in the ceremony," he commented.

"Neither did you," she returned, not willing to tell him that Edmure was her uncle and that it would be wholly inappropriate.

"Roslin is my sister," he smiled wider, "I had no desire to see her like that, let alone help"

"Of course not," she blushed.

"Would you care for some more wine?" he asked her.

"No thank you," she said and she saw the disappointment in his eyes; "perhaps if I was less tired"

"Allow me to escort you to your room at least," he said, standing up from the table.

"I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience," she said.

"It would be my pleasure," he met her eyes and she saw no hint of lechery in them.

"Well thank you," she smiled, taking the arm he offered and letting him lead her from the dining hall.

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Catelyn could barely keep the smile from her face as she walked towards the solar where she had been told Arya was badgering Brienne again about teaching her sword fighting. She knew that Ned had allowed her to have lessons whilst at the Capitol but she was not as keen. When the letter had come she had found Bran and Rickon at once after sending a raven to Ned who she assumed would be at the Wall by now. The only person left to tell was Arya and her smile widened as she pushed open the door to see her younger daughter gesticulating wildly. Brienne, to her credit, was very patient with her despite her constant questioning. The woman had settled well into Winterfell although she rarely left Margaery's side. The younger woman was sat in the corner of the solar stitching what looked to be a blanket for her baby.

"Good afternoon Lady Stark," Margaery greeted first.

"Good afternoon," Catelyn returned warmly.

"Whatever Bran said is a big fat lie," Arya shot in then and she raised her eyebrows.

"So you were not bothering Lady Brienne about sword fighting?" she asked and Arya flushed.

"Maybe," Arya scowled.

"She is no bother my Lady, truly," Brienne assured her.

"I know well enough how much bother she is," Catelyn smiled, "but I'm not here to scold you – we've had more word of Sansa"

"Is she still at Riverrun?" Arya asked.

"No, likely she's at the Twins by now, and from there she will come here," she told her.

"She's coming home?" Arya asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes, likely only a few weeks away," Catelyn nodded and Arya grinned.

"You must be pleased my Lady," Margaery commented from her corner.

"I am," she agreed, "but I will be even more pleased when I hear word that Ned and the boys are alright at the Wall"

"Surely they can best wildlings from behind the Wall?" Arya raised her brows.

"I'm sure they can," Catelyn soothed and Arya looked placated.

"I pray for their victory, the Wall protects us all," Margaery said.

"It does," she agreed, "and I thank you for your prayers"

"It is the least I can do, you have all been so good to me," Margaery smiled.

* * *

Loral set the bottle of tonic down in front of Adele before moving to bring them both a cup of warm, spiced wine. She sat herself opposite her then and smiled as the younger woman wrapped her hands around the cup to take in the heat.

"Thank you for this," Adele said after a moment, "I didn't want to bother the Maester and Lady Stark has enough to worry about. I remembered Dany saying you were like a mother to her so I thought I would come to you, I hope you don't mind"

"Not at all," Loral assured her, "I'm glad you came to me, and I promise you … the tonic will work wonders and ease your sickness"

"Thank you," Adele said gratefully before taking a sip of wine.

"A child is a great gift, you must be so pleased," Loral smiled.

"Oh I am," Adele beamed, "I never dreamt when I came to Winterfell that any of this would happen"

"Does Theon share your excitement?" Loral asked her curiously.

"He does," she confirmed, "I worried at first … you know what he was like before … but … truly, he cannot wait"

"That's wonderful," Loral smiled at her, "I remember when I told Jory I was first with child; he went so pale I thought he would faint"

"You must be glad he's home," Adele commented.

"So glad, I hope I will not be parted from him again anytime soon, I was terrified he would go to the Wall when word came," Loral confessed.

"I thought Theon would," Adele nodded, swallowing hard.

"Thank the Gods they were ordered to stay here," Loral said.

"Thank the Gods indeed," Adele agreed.

"I wonder if you would do something for me Adele," Loral said.

"Anything I can after you've been so kind," she smiled.

"Serra has been rather distant recently, likely it is just as she is growing into a woman but … with Dany not here I worry about her lack of female company," Loral told her.

"I can spend some time with her, I grow bored when Theon is at his post," Adele smiled.

"Thank you so much Adele," Loral smiled back, "likely Jory will be looking to find her a match soon but until then it would be good for her to have some company"

"I'd be delighted," she said, "and if Jory is interested I hear there is a knight in Torrhen's Square"

Loral snorted in a rather unladylike manner at that and Adele joined in her laughter at once until they were both fighting back the tears. They barely registered the door opening but when Adele looked up to wipe her streaming eyes on the sleeve of her dress she sobered at once at the identical grim faces of Theon and Jory.

"What's happened?" she asked fearfully.

"Jory what is it?" Loral added.

"There have been attacks along the coast," Theon said.

"Ironborn or Stannis we don't know," Jory sighed.

"I will be leading a troop of men down to deal with them," Theon said.

"What?" Adele snarled, rising to her feet, "Why you?"

"Jory has just returned from the wilds, it's not fair to have him leave again so soon," he reasoned.

"I did offer," Jory put in, "but Theon insisted"

"Thank you so much for this Loral," Adele said, snatching up the tonic, "I will come and see Serra tomorrow afternoon"

"You're welcome … and thank you!" Loral called after her as she hurried from the house.

"Excuse me," Theon said hastily.

"Of course," Loral waved him away.

"Theon … thank you," Jory said meaningfully, catching his arm and meeting his eye for a moment.

"It's only fair," he said, "and from the reports they are few"

"Aye," Jory agreed, "best you go and reassure your wife of that."

* * *

_The Wall _

* * *

The pyre was still smoking faintly from where the bodies of the black brothers, Northmen, Gold Company and wildlings had all been burned alike. Ned had heard enough from Benjen to be certain that it was the only way to ensure that none of them rose again as wights. They had enough trouble on their hands without worrying about them as well. Ned looked up to see that the lift mechanism was descending and he knew that Benjen would likely be on it. His brother had been in a fitful state for the past days, certain that the wildings would attack again soon and wishing that they would get on and do it. Ned began wandering towards it then as it came ever close, spotting Dany and Jon coming out of Castle Black, the dressing that had covered Jon's cheek noticeably missing. An arrow had grazed him up on the Wall but thankfully it was only minor, the dressing just to make sure it didn't become infected. Dany had been helping the old blind Maester Aemon with some of the injured men, seemingly happy to help and keep busy as Robb spent most of his time drilling his men. He was doing it now, Ned could hear his voice drifting over from the practice yards – Gods when has his son become so commanding?

"Well?" Ned asked as Benjen stepped off the lift with a grimace.

"They're organising themselves, if I had to guess I'd say tomorrow night," Benjen sighed.

"We have time enough to ready ourselves," Ned said.

"Aye," Benjen agreed.

"How's the Lord Commander?" Ned asked him then in concern.

"Not good," Benjen shook his head, the Old Bear's wounds had festered and a fever was upon him.

"You're still in charge then," Ned stated.

"For now at least," he said and Ned knew his brother wasn't relishing it.

"Do you think anymore will attack south of the Wall?" Ned questioned as they began walking back towards the keep in step.

"I don't know … I doubt it, but if they do … Robb's proved himself more than capable," he almost smiled and Ned nodded his agreement.

"Aye," Ned said, "as much as I wish he didn't have to fight … at least he's good at it"

"Aye," Benjen agreed, "best we gather the men and warn them that this fight is far from over."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei twisted her hands together and tried to avoid looking at the heart tree, not wanting to see that face staring back at her. Where was Jaime? He had been gone so long and the air that had been long filled with the clanging bells and the shouts and screams of the people had long since stilled. It was quiet now. Too quiet. What if they had Jaime? What if they had her babies? She would tear them apart if they touched a hair on their heads. Oh Gods. What had she done? She glanced at the heart tree again but quickly looked away, her hands shaking as yet another minute ticked by. Where was Jaime? He was coming he had to be, he had promised her. She heard the creak of the gate then and she spun around, expecting to see Jaime and her babies round the corner at any moment.

It wasn't him.

It took a moment for that to register in her mind but when it did dread seeped through every pore of her being and her whole body trembled. Jaime hadn't come. Jaime had abandoned her. She looked at the armour then, the familiar armour with the stag emblazoned across it. Stannis had come for her. Jaime had left her at the mercy of the man who probably hated her the most in this world. How could he do that? How could he leave her here?

"Cersei Lannister, you're arrested for crimes of treason against the deceased King, Robert Baratheon and against the true King, Stannis Baratheon," the guard said, stepping forward.

She said nothing as two of them grasped her under the arms. Her head spun as they led her away. Spinning with images of Jaime and her precious children. He had either abandoned her or had been taken captive himself. Either way she was alone. Part of her couldn't believe it. Jaime had been right all that time ago when he said that they might lose. She had never imagined that they would. Not like this anyway. Never so completely. Never so alone.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you guys enjoyed that one! Hopefully I'll get another up before the New Year!

:)


	34. Head On

**A/N: **Hey guys! Meant to have this up yesterday but I was away and had no wifi, but here we are, technically it's still before the New Year ;)

Anyway, hope you enjoy it, please let me know your thoughts as I love to read them.

Happy New Year to all of you and thank you so much for all the support so far!

:)

* * *

**Head On**

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

The sun was hanging low in the sky and the unmistakeable sounds of an army preparing for war were seeking over the vast expanse of the Wall. Everyone was grim faced as they milled around the yards of Castle Black, checking their weapons over and making sure their armour was properly secured. Robb had already taken Dany back down to the kitchens and she was even more frightened than the last time. Jon getting injured had scared her and she had been shaking when Robb had wrapped his arms around her and promised her that he would come back for her once it was done. He wished he could have stayed longer and taken more time to reassure her but he had to get back out there to his men who were waiting for him. It was to be the same drill as last time only this time Benjen seemed certain that giants would be used. Robb had decided not to tell Dany that but he couldn't be sure that she didn't know. Plenty of the men had been muttering about it under their breath for the last few days.

"Ready?" Jon's voice roused him.

"Aye," he nodded, "are you heading back up atop the Wall?"

"Aye," it was Jon's turn to nod.

"Watch your face this time," Robb smiled and Jon returned it.

"Do you think it will be like last time?" Jon asked him.

"Who knows," he shrugged, "we can only hope uncle Benjen is wrong about the giants"

"Let's hope," Jon agreed.

"Robb!" Benjen's voice shouted over to them, "Back to your men, the sun's almost down!"

"See you later," Robb said with a smile.

"I'd better," Jon replied and they embraced quickly for a moment.

When they pulled apart Robb trudged towards Benjen and Jon watched as they exchanged a few words. Robb was soon on the move again, back round to the training yards to lead his men to the tunnel entrance. Benjen glanced warily towards Jon then and he sighed heavily. His uncle had not outright ignored him since he had found out the truth of his parentage but he was no longer the jovial spirit he had always been on those occasions he had visited Winterfell. Jon imagined it must be difficult for him but he missed his uncle's company and he determined that once this fight was done that they would sit and share a drink together like old times. He made his own way towards the lift mechanism then, glancing upwards to see it slowly clanking down to the base of the Wall. Each time he went up there he felt more reassured that the lift wouldn't fail but being so high up still made him feel faintly nauseous.

He heard the crunch of footsteps behind him then and turned to see Benjen coming towards him, the older man's eyes drifting up to the lift as though wondering exactly how long it would take to reach the bottom. Jon didn't know if he was being paranoid but he had the feeling that his uncle wanted to spend as little time as possible with him and the feeling nagged at the pit of his stomach.

"Do you think the giants will come tonight?" he asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

"Perhaps," Benjen answered and Jon sighed.

"I know finding out the truth about me must have been hard but you're still my uncle … that is probably the only thing that hasn't changed," Jon said quietly.

"I'm sorry lad," Benjen huffed, "it's been hard to get my head around"

"It wasn't easy for me either," he returned slightly edgily.

"I know," Benjen sighed, "just knowing what she suffered … what she didn't suffer … I just can't decide if it makes it better or worse …"

"She wasn't murdered," Jon swallowed hard, "at least … not by him …"

"You didn't kill her Jon," Benjen said softly, "don't you ever think that … she should never have been alone when you came, if she wasn't alone perhaps …"

"But she was alone," Jon said sadly.

"Aye she was, but she had strength enough to hold on until she could see you safe," he said, "at least she went to the Gods knowing you would be safe"

"Do you think that was a comfort to her?" Jon asked him.

"Of course it was," Benjen nodded, meeting his eyes, "Ned told me it all, how she used the last of her strength to hold you, to kiss you one last time and to make him promise that he would keep you safe until …"

"Until?" Jon pressed him, he had never discussed the details with Lord Stark, both of them seemed happy to ignore the issue.

"She didn't know that Rhaegar was dead nor about Brandon or our father … she knew nothing of it and she asked Ned to make sure you got to your father," Benjen told him quietly.

"He didn't tell her the truth?" Jon frowned.

"What good would that do her on her death bed?" Benjen countered.

"None at all," Jon swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sting in his eyes.

"She died knowing that you were safe and I believe that she would have gone to the Gods in peace knowing that Jon. She was your mother … I have no doubt Lyanna loved you," he said gently.

"Thank you," Jon whispered, pressing his lips together determinedly as the lift finally reached their level.

* * *

Benjen loosed what felt like his hundredth arrow and felt like following its progress off the Wall. They had been at it for hours, exchanging barrages of arrows with the wildlings below while their giants tried to break down the entrance to the tunnel. They had been picked off, hundreds of arrows needed to bring them down to the ground with an almighty crash that could be heard even up here. If things went on like this then this fight could last months. Benjen wouldn't be surprised if only a fraction of the arrows fired actually hit their targets and he knew that the wildlings firing upwards were hitting even fewer. He knew that the Wall and its allies would win in the end but likely half the men would die of boredom in the meantime. Dawn was almost breaking when the sound of the lift clanking to the top of the Wall drew his attention. Robb stepped off at once and he did not look happy. Benjen noted that Aegon had too seen his arrival and he stepped away from his post to join him at once.

"What are you doing up here?" Benjen asked, also turning away from his own post.

"I have thousands of men down there doing nothing," Robb said, "there has been no threat from the south and we are just stood there redundant"

"I know it's frustrating …" Benjen started.

"How long is this routine going to go on for before someone breaks it?" Robb demanded.

"Robb …" he started again.

"How long?" it was Aegon who asked this time.

"Honestly," Robb added.

"At this rate …" Benjen hesitated, "months"

"Months?!" Aegon repeated incredulously.

"What's going on?" Ned arrived at Benjen's side and frowned at the two irritated youngsters.

"We should ride out," Robb said.

"With those numbers?" Ned raised his brows.

"They cannot have the armour nor the weapons we do," Robb shook his head.

"He's right, you won't find plate and mail beyond the Wall," Benjen nodded.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Aegon asked.

"We will still lose great numbers," Ned cautioned.

"But we will win," Robb said certainly and he could not argue with his son's conviction.

"We ride out at dawn," Aegon said when no one else uttered a word.

* * *

Jon strapped his chest plate on securely as everyone around him pulled their own armour about them, tying his sword belt around his waist before picking up his steel. He wasn't relishing marching out and engaging wildlings in battle but he was so damn sick of notching and loosing arrows that he would rather do just about anything else. Robb seemed hungry for it, Jon could see him from the edge of the armoury, prowling up and down before his garrison and shouting various commands at them. Lord Stark had offered him command of some of the other troops but Jon had declined, he felt as though he needed to prove himself in battle before he became any kind of general. Robb had been born to lead and he had already proven himself the other night when the wildlings had spilled over the walls. Jon would just slot into his party and hopefully he would return with them when it was all over.

His uncle Benjen was personally leading out a garrison whose sole purpose was to find and capture Mance Rayder. He was confident that once they had the so called King Beyond the Wall in their grasp that those remaining would scatter. Only Mance was keeping the rival tribes from butchering one another and with him gone Benjen was certain their ranks would soon descend into chaos. Jon glanced around then and noticed Aegon deep in conversation with Griff. He knew his brother's advisor was more than keen for Aegon to stay here behind the Wall until the fighting was done. In fact, he was keen for Jon to stay as well, that the three heads of the dragon should be kept safely out of harm's way. Aegon was less than keen though, he wanted to prove to those that had pledged their allegiance to him that he was a King they could be proud to fight for. A King that would fight alongside them and not shy away from the battlefield. He wanted to prove himself as much as Jon did and Jon could tell from the look on his face as Griff continued on that he would not be persuaded. Almost as he thought that Aegon broke away from Griff and began walking briskly towards him with a slight scowl on his face.

"Did he persuade you?" Jon asked.

"About what?" Aegon returned.

"That it would be safer to lock yourself down in the kitchens with Dany?" Jon raised his brows.

"And have them call me a craven King and a green boy? I don't think so," he said firmly.

"I suppose I'll see you on the other side then," Jon said, meeting his eyes.

"I'd rather see you back on this side when this is done with," Aegon smiled slightly.

"It's a deal," Jon smiled back and they embraced for a moment.

Aegon held his eyes for a moment when they broke apart, looking as though there was something more he wanted to say. He didn't utter another word though, merely clapping Jon on the back before striding towards his men from the Gold Company. Jon in turn moved to take his place as Robb's second in command. Why Robb had insisted he take on such a role Jon didn't know but he had known better than to argue and had taken the position when asked. Robb spared him a brief smile as he came to join him before continuing to address his men. Even Jon felt roused by the encouragement and the conviction that laced Robb's every word and by the time he had finished and the call went up to raise the gate he was more than ready to get out there and destroy some wildlings.

There was deathly silence as the tunnel slowly revealed, the only sound the clank of the mechanism as it rose higher and higher. When it finally ground to a halt the cavalry pulled themselves up onto their horses, the generals giving the order for the foot soldiers to follow on. Jon looked up at the Wall as they trotted underneath the open gate but he could not make out the top. Hundreds of archers were still up there, instructed only to fire on giants that came to force the tunnel. A few thousand men were to remain south of the Wall in case of any breech. Everyone seemed hopeful that there wouldn't be one though and Jon tried to let that placate him as they passed into the tunnel. When the first of the mounted men reached the end the order went up to raise the outer gate. The same familiar clanking greeted their ears and Jon's horse nervously pawed at the ice below them. He patted the flank of the unfamiliar mount to sooth him as he looked ahead to see the world beyond the Wall slowly revealing itself to him.

"Ready!" Benjen screamed out then and Jon grasped his reigns a little more firmly; "Charge!" his uncle bellowed as the tunnel opened high enough for them to ride out and he dug his heels into his horse and urged him on along with all the others, the sound of the hooves echoing along the tunnel of ice almost deafening him until he passed out the other side and into the vast openness of the wilds.

* * *

It felt like forever since Ned had last swung a sword in battle but thankfully he seemed to pick up the rhythm quickly enough. His horse was long gone, felled by a well thrown spear and he had been on foot almost from the beginning as he alternated between slashing through as many wildlings as he could and scanning the area for Robb and Jon. It was impossible to find them amongst the mass of Northmen with their similar armour and helms. He could only pray that his boys were still alive and fighting as he plunged his sword embarrassingly easily into the chest of a particularly poorly armoured wildling. Ned took a breath then and readied himself, glancing about again to see that some of the wildlings were already fleeing as Benjen had predicted. He silently thanked the Gods that there seemed to be no sign of any giants and prayed that they too had decided to flee as he clashed swords with yet another opponent. This one seemed to have a bit of fight in him and Ned was near breathless by the time he managed to wrong-foot him and stick his sword into his belly. The blood flowed over his hands all hot and sticky. It didn't matter how many men he had killed, how many times blood had coated his hands, it still repulsed him and he hoped it always would. The last thing he wanted to do was become a man who lived to kill, who enjoyed the kill. He killed because he had to, not because he wanted to.

Ned caught a glimpse of Aegon then and noted that his chosen King had too lost his mount. He seemed to be holding his own though, a party of sell swords from the Gold Company keeping him covered as they battled on. Still Ned made to cut his way towards him, keeping one eye out for Robb and Jon as he hacked his way through wildling after wildling to reach the young Targaryen. He wondered if Benjen had found Mance yet, knowing that the sooner his brother came across the self-styled wildling King, the sooner this would all be over. The sun was rising steadily higher now, the dawn breaking a gloriously bloody red as light spilled over the battling armies. Ned was almost completely out of breath as he reached Aegon and was grateful when the younger man stepped in to take down a man who was threatening to split Ned's skull with an axe.

"Thank you," he panted.

"You're welcome," Aegon returned, not looking away from the battlefield.

"More are fleeing," Ned stated then as a break from the fighting left him able to appraise the situation.

"Yes," Aegon agreed, "but plenty are still fighting"

"Best hope Benjen finds Mance soon," Ned said heavily as another band of wildlings charged towards them brandishing spears.

One caught his armour but scraped right against it with a sickeningly metallic noise. Ned raised his sword in retaliation and almost cut his assailants arm from his body. He screamed in pain and Ned let his steel kiss the man's throat. Better a quick mercy that clinging on and likely dying from loss of blood or infection. Another charged at him then but he moved almost as swiftly as he had almost twenty years ago, bracing his shoulder so the wildling ran right into him. Ned was bigger and more heavily armoured and his opponent staggered slightly as the weight hit him, hesitating long enough for Ned to take his head clean off. He met Aegon's eyes then and noted the younger man's slightly awestruck expression. Ned couldn't help but smile slightly then, his eyes lighting up a little. He had thought himself too old for this kind of combat. Apparently he had been wrong. He still had it in him.

* * *

Finally.

They locked eyes at the exact same moment and Benjen felt the hatred coursing through him as he stared at the deserter who had dared try and bring down the Wall. Mance Rayder. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that he would get his old brother in his grasp and bring him to the justice he had been evading since he had broken his vows and fled from the Wall. Now he had him though, merely a stone's throw from him and with his wildling army scattered, half of them having fled back into the trees. Benjen saw the look of slight fear in Mance's eyes then as he stepped closer to him. There were some men around him who practically snarled and Benjen advanced but he knew he had larger numbers at his own back. Mance seemed to realise it too as he put his hands up for peace as Benjen approached.

"This stops now," Benjen said with authority as he stopped a few feet from him.

"We can't stop," Mance said, "you don't understand"

"You're a deserter, a traitor to the Night's Watch, you will be returned to Castle Black and be served your punishment," Benjen snarled.

"And what of my people?" Mance asked, "What will they do now winter is coming? Winter is coming Stark, you know all about that …"

"_Your _people?" Benjen raised his brows, "I thought those beyond the Wall were free folk"

"No one's free anymore, not in these times," Mance replied.

"Least of all you," he said coldly, "take him, make sure he's bound tight," he ordered two of his men forward and they came at once.

Mance made no move to struggle although those men behind him looked as though they would happily start swinging their weapons. Benjen narrowed his eyes at them though and they seemed to think better of it as a cry of a woman came from one of the tents that Mance had been found near. He looked towards the deserter then who was having his hands bound and saw the fleeting look of almost pain in his eyes.

"Help her," Mance said quietly and a frown set into Benjen's features.

"Take them as well," he jerked his head to those found with Mance and more men came forwards.

"Should we search the tents?" Gren asked him.

"Aye," Benjen nodded.

"Do you not want to know why Stark?!" Mance called out to him as he was pulled away but Benjen ignored him, his attention caught by Gren's startled cry.

He snapped his eyes back to the tents to see his black brother being held by the hair, a knife pressed against his throat. A knife being wielded by a young, fair woman who had Gren whimpering in her grip as she yanked down even harder on his hair.

"What, because you crows are forbidden from touching a woman you get so desperate you have to spy on _my _sister on her childbed?!" she snarled.

"I wasn't spying, I was just …" Gren cut off with a squeak of pain as she pressed the blade further into his throat.

"I think you've scared him enough," Benjen said and to his surprise she let go, sending Gren a contemptuous look before she turned her eyes on Benjen.

"Pathetic," she said dismissively.

"You'll come with us as well," Benjen said.

"Like hell I will!" she snapped at him.

"Look around you, you've lost … you're our prisoner now," he told her.

"I'm going nowhere crow," she said as another cry of pain filtered out through the tent, "and if you lay one had on me so help me I'll kill you all"

"She will," one of the other captive wildlings said.

"Shut up," Benjen snapped at him.

"I am staying right here, my sister needs me," she said with finality, locking her eyes with Benjen until he finally sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he said heavily, "I want a guard around this tent, and for the love of the Gods Gren, don't go poking your head in there again!"

"Yes my Lord Commander," Gren nodded his agreement, flinching back slightly as the wildling woman turned to walk back into the tent.

* * *

As she walked back into the tent Dalla cried out in pain again and she hurried to her side, taking her hand and letting her squeeze it so tightly she imagined the blood supply would be cut off. Instead of complaining she hushed her sister gently, murmuring encouraging words to her as she mopped her brow with a damp cloth. The labour had been going on so long and she had to admit she was worried, not that she would say such a thing to Dalla. Her sister was tough. She could survive this. She had to survive this. They were all one another had in the world and she would not let Mance Rayder's baby take that away from her.

"Why … isn't it … coming?" Dalla asked her desperately before crying out in pain again.

"It is," she encouraged, "it is coming … you need to push Dalla … push!"

Dalla did as she was told, the pain excruciating as she screamed out, feeling the baby begin to come from her. She looked to her sister then, seeing her even paler than usual as she stole a glimpse between her legs. Dalla knew that the baby must be coming then and she pushed with what little strength she had left when the pain came for her again, crushing Val's hand in her own. Her sister winced but said nothing in complaint as she screamed so loudly she imagined the Gods themselves would be able to hear her.

"It's almost here Dalla … once more," Val encouraged her.

Her sister did as she bid, Val's bones being uncomfortably crushed as Dalla let out one final cry before collapsing back against the furs of the makeshift bed. The cries of her new born baby replaced hers then and Val moved to scoop him up. The boy looked strong. A good thing too since he had been born in the aftermath of such a defeat. She was angry. Beyond angry with Mance for this. He had assured them an easy victory but Val had known when the giants had fled that they were doomed. Their best hope now lay in the hands of southerners and crows and that did not sit well with her at all. She knew they would be taken prisoner like it or not. That could be worried about later though. Right now her sister needed to meet her boy who she had so been looking forward to. Dalla had never been sentimental, she was a hard woman when she had to be. Only Val, and she imagined Mance, saw her soft side but as soon as she discovered she was with child there was such a change in her. No longer did she live for herself but for the life growing inside her. Dalla would lay down her life for no one, perhaps not even her sister or husband, but she would have given it gladly for that nameless, faceless baby. Now, she would finally see what she had been waiting for all those moons.

"A boy Dalla," Val told her, bringing him closer.

"Is he … alright?" she asked, her breathing shallow.

"Looks strong," Val confirmed and a faint smile lit up her sister's features.

"Look after him," Dalla bid her and she frowned at once, laying the boy at her side and finally taking in her sister's appearance.

She was pale, as pale as a corpse, her skin clammy with sweat. Val moved her hand to her forehead and felt it cold despite the moisture that coated it. Something was wrong. Dalla's breathing was shallow and her hands shook as she moved one of them to touch her baby. Val swallowed hard. This isn't how it was supposed to be. She tossed her fair hair over her shoulder then and rose to her feet. All her pride was against this but it was the only way she might be able to save her sister. She didn't have the skill, she wasn't foolish enough to think she did but they would have people who did. After summoning up her courage and pushing down her pride she wrenched the flap of the tent aside and marched outside, seeing the crow she had threatened earlier flinch at her presence.

"Crow!" she shouted towards the one she assumed was in charge; "We will come with you but you have to help me!"

* * *

**A/N: **So that's the wildlings dealt with (mostly!) hope you enjoyed, do let me know.

More in the New Year, hope you all have a lovely night tonight to see in 2015!

:)


	35. Interrogations

**A/N: **First chapter of the new year! Hopefully you guys enjoy it, do let me know.

**Guest: **It's the end of the wildling threat I suppose, but there is more from them as you will see later in this chapter ;) Yes, they will be heading back down towards Winterfell and making plans to head south but other things will be thrown up before they go anywhere. You're right about Stannis though, now he has his throne I don't think he would give it up. Happy New Year to you too and I hope it's a good one! :)

Onwards with the chapter now lovelies!

:)

* * *

**Interrogations **

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei swallowed hard as she was led into the throne room. Her wrists were chained and she was still in the dress she had been wearing when they took her prisoner. That had been almost a week ago and she hadn't been allowed to wash or change. She was brought simple meals twice a day but no one spoke to her. No one answered her increasingly desperate pleas about the whereabouts of her brother and children. As she walked through the doubles doors no one bowed to her or called her 'your Grace', the atmosphere was cold and unwelcoming and she repressed a shudder as the doors were closed behind her. All eyes were on her as the two guards let her between the rows of people. Usually she revelled in them all looking at her, knowing the women were jealous and the men lustful. Now she wished they would look anywhere else. She knew she must look a state, nothing like the regal Queen who they had bowed and simpered to for so many years. Her eyes fixed on the man sat on the Iron Throne then and her footsteps almost faltered.

Stannis.

He had never liked her and she had never liked him. It was one thing that she and Robert had in common. After a trying day with Stannis Robert would often come and share a drink with her, laughing at the sharpness of her tongue whenever she spoke about his brother. Renly had been far more tolerable but then anyone was more tolerable than Stannis. She would rather kneel down and beg forgiveness from Ned Stark than her cold, unfeeling good-brother. At least Stark wouldn't have harmed her children, she knew that Stannis would though if he got his hands on them. Her eyes darted around the room again but she saw no sign of Tommen and Myrcella and no sign that another prisoner was about to be brought in. She prayed to the Gods that Jaime had got them safely away, even if it did mean that he had left her here. She hated him for that, but at least if he had her children safe she could stop short of wishing him dead.

"Cersei Lannister, you have been brought before the Iron Throne to answer charges that you are guilty of monstrous treasons against the late King Robert Baratheon and by extension to his true heir and rightful King, Stannis Baratheon. You are charged with adultery with your own brother, Ser Jaime Lannister and of conspiring to control the Seven Kingdoms by placing your succession of bastards on a throne to which they had no right. How do you plead?"

Stannis didn't even have the guts to speak the words to her himself. He had one of his men read out the charges for him. Cersei studied him for a moment. He was a weather beaten man with a kindly if rather worn face. Her eyes found his hands then and saw the tips of his fingers missing. Smuggler. The Onion Knight they called him, Stannis' dog through and through. Damn it all. She swallowed hard then and raised her head high.

"Not guilty," she said defiantly and she saw Stannis' hand twitch, their eyes meeting for a moment.

"The prisoner will be returned to the cells to await her trial," Davos said and her guards moved at once to take her away.

"Wait!" she shrieked, "What about my children, where are my children?!"

"Tell us the truth and you may hear some from us," Stannis finally spoke and she glared at him.

"You have your throne … but you'll not keep it … you mark my words!" she spat at him.

"Take her away," Davos said as Stannis flushed angrily.

Davos glanced to his King once the deposed and shamed Queen Regent was dragged from the hall and saw Stannis was composing himself, setting his features into a more relaxed expression as the court announcer entered through the doors. He bowed lowly and Stannis gestured for him to go ahead and speak when he raised his head back up.

"Gulian Swann, Lord of Stonehelm and his daughter, Lady Erinne Swann, future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!" the announcement rang out and Stannis sat up a little straighter.

Stannis appraised his future wife as she walked slowly into the hall on the arm of her father. She was young, having only seen twenty one name days, and far more pleasing to the eye than Selyse had been. Her waist was narrow but her hips were wide, said to be a sign of fertility. Stannis smiled faintly to himself then as they reached the foot of the Iron Throne, her father bowing lowly as she sank into a low curtsey at his side. They remained where they were as Stannis slowly rose from the throne and descended down, motioning for Lord Swann to rise before offering his hand to Erinne and encouraging her out of her curtsey.

"My Lady," he managed a smile for her which she returned shyly.

"Your Grace, I am honoured to be in your presence and to receive such favour from you," she spoke softly and politely enough. Yes, she would do nicely for Queen.

"The honour is mine, the Gods have blessed me with a beautiful bride indeed," he said evenly and she bowed her head demurely. Yes, she knew her place.

"My Lord Swann," he greeted her father then, finally dropping her hand.

"Your Grace," he returned, a smug smile of satisfaction on his face.

"I must thank you and your house for your support and even more so for entrusting your daughter to my care," Stannis said as he should and the man looked even more pleased with himself if that were even possible.

"We are honoured to serve you your Grace, and even more honoured that you would consider Erinne fit to be your Queen," he said.

"I cannot wait for the wedding," Stannis said and Lord Swann bowed again before backing away. His daughter dropped into another low curtsey before following suit.

Stannis retreated back to the Iron Throne then and resisted the urge to scowl. The exchange had been purely for show and he imagined everyone knew it. He had had precious little choice in the matter, either he took Erinne as his wife and made Gulian's second son a member of his Kingsguard or he got no support from the Swann's nor the other houses of the Stormlands that they influenced. At least the girl was pretty and young enough to bear him sons. She seemed meek and obedient as well which he was glad of. The last thing the Kingdoms needed was another Cersei Lannister. Davos came towards him then and Stannis beckoned him closer, sensing that his most trusted advisor had something to say to him.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Forgive me your Grace, it is just I am surprised not to see the Lady Melisandre," Davos said.

"The Lady Melisandre is away from the Capitol," Stannis said.

"I see your Grace … may I ask why?" Davos asked tentatively.

"There is urgent business that I would have her take care of," he said and Davos knew he would get no more out of him. Whatever Melisandre was up to though he was certain that it would be nothing good.

* * *

_Winterfell _

* * *

Serra had finally given Adele the slip after what felt like hours. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy spending time with her, it just seemed that she never had a moment to herself anymore. Adele was lonely since Theon had ridden off to the coast to thwart whatever attack was being made on the North. Serra's mother had told her in confidence that Adele was expecting a baby and having her husband away from her would be difficult so she had done all she could to be kind to her. The thing was that both of them seemed as miserable as one another and forced themselves to be cheerful in the vain hope that neither of them would ask any questions. Thankfully Adele hadn't asked her what was wrong. No one had. Serra was glad of that. If someone asked she didn't think she would be able to stop herself breaking down and confessing. What she had Jon had done still weighed heavily on her mind, the memory of it forcing its way into her dreams and causing her to wake up shaking. If she could go back and say no she would. If she had known that he would ride away and never come back then she would have gone home before he even had the chance to kiss her.

She had been foolish, she had known it at the time and she knew it even better now. Her innocence was gone and Jon had not asked for her hand as she had thought he would. Now her father was talking about finding a match for her and it was killing her inside. How could she marry a man now she was spoiled? She ought to tell the truth, confess it to her mother and beg her father's forgiveness but they were both so happy at being reunited, of having their family together again that she could not bear to rip it apart. The only crumb of comfort she had was that she was not with child. She had cried with relief when her moon's blood had come a few weeks after Jon had ridden away. She knew now from listening to her parent's conversations that Jon was at the Wall helping to fight back the wildlings. It was assumed that he would come back with the armies once it was done and Serra wasn't sure yet how she was supposed to ever be in his presence again. She had had a fleeting thought that perhaps he would come back and marry her but the more she thought on it the more she realised it wasn't what she wanted. He would do it out of pity and duty and she didn't want that from him. She had been a foolish girl, completely infatuated with a slightly older boy and desperate for him to return her affections.

He didn't want her. Not really. She had just been there when he was drunk and clearly upset and she had foolishly let him take comfort from her, deluding herself into believing that if she let him have her entirely then she would get to keep him forever. Such a fool. Such a mistake that she could never take back. She closed her eyes and prayed that her father wouldn't find a match for her. How could she marry a man when she wasn't a maid? If she said nothing her husband would find out on their wedding night anyway. He would know and assume her a whore, he could set her aside and cite that she had not been pure. Then her family would suffer the shame anyway. Either way her parents would be devastated and ashamed and she would be humiliated. She swallowed hard then, determined she wouldn't cry, actually wishing that she was back in Adele's company so she could at least try and think of something else for a while. There was a rustle behind her then as someone stepped through the fallen leaves. She thought perhaps Adele had found her and turned to greet whoever had come into the Godswood. It wasn't Adele it was Gendry and she forced a smile for him. He had been living with her family since he arrived at Winterfell although he spent much of his time working at the smiths. She only ever really saw him at mealtimes but he was kind enough and had even managed to make her laugh once or twice which was a grand achievement these days.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "I didn't realise I would be disturbing anyone"

"It's alright … I wasn't praying," she replied.

"Oh …" he shuffled nervously before coming to kneel down next to her.

"Don't you worship the Seven?" she asked curiously.

"I was curious," he said, "I've never seen a Godswood before"

"What do you think of it?" she questioned, turning to meet his eyes.

"Beautiful," he said, holding her gaze for a moment before turning away in a rather flustered manner.

"I find it peaceful," she said after a moment of silence.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked awkwardly.

"No," she shook her head, "I didn't mean like that … I … it doesn't matter"

"Are you alright?" his tone was concerned and it made her feel guilty for some reason.

"Fine," she avoided his eyes.

"You seem different," he stated then and she snapped her head round to look at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked him sharply.

"No offence," he said quickly, "it's just … in the wilds your father used to speak about you … he said you were always smiling and happy and …"

"Sorry to disappoint," she said quietly when he trailed off awkwardly.

"You don't … I mean you didn't … I just … sorry …" he finished, looking flustered again.

"It's not you," she muttered.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go?" he asked and she shook her head; "What is it?" he asked softly and tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them.

"I'm of an age to marry," she said after a long minute.

"And you don't want to?" he guessed.

"It's not that I don't want to I … I'm sorry Gendry I can't …" she scrambled to her feet.

"Wait!" he hauled himself to his own and grabbed her before she could leave; "I didn't mean to upset you …"

"You didn't," she shook her head and he released her arm so she could wipe her tears away.

"Someone has," he said knowingly.

"Leave it," she whispered.

"You can tell me, I won't say anything to anyone," he implored her.

"I'm not a maid Gendry," she said so quietly she was surprised he heard her.

"Oh," he said awkwardly.

"I was stupid," she sniffed, "I never should have let it happen but he was upset and I thought he liked me to and I thought … I thought …"

"You thought he would marry you?" he suggested.

"Yes," she confessed, wiping more tears away; "only he went away and I know he will never truly want me the way I wanted him"

"Do you love him?" he asked.

"I thought I did … but I was a fool … I'm not even sure I know what love is," she shook her head.

"Are you afraid no man will want you because you're not a maid?" he asked then.

"Of course," she met his eyes, "he would be disgusted … he would put me aside and then my mother and father would know! I can't stand it … just imagining the shame they would feel!"

"Your mother and father love you," he soothed her.

"What I did shames them as well as me … I wouldn't blame them if they cast me out," she said.

"They wouldn't," he shook his head.

"You don't know that!" she shot back, "I have to tell them … it's the only way, I can't let my father find a match for me and allow him to be humiliated when all this comes out …"

"Wait!" Gendry grabbed her back again, his mind racing; "Perhaps there is another way"

"What other way?" she asked him curiously.

"Promise you won't confess anything … not just yet," he said.

"I promise," she nodded, meeting his eyes, "but why?"

"Trust me," he said, swallowing hard and remembering Jory's promise to him; "I have an idea."

* * *

_Moat Calin_

* * *

According to the last group of farmers they had encountered before riding into Moat Calin, it was Ironborn who were attacking the coast further west towards the Salt Spear. Theon had been unsurprised but he still felt uneasy that he was going out to attack and defeat men who were sworn to his father. It didn't seem right, but then, what they were doing was a crime against their sworn Lord and Ironborn or not they needed to be dealt with. There was always the possibility that they were just rouge pirates and were not under any guidance from Balon Greyjoy. Theon clung to that thought as they dismounted just outside the town and set about making camp for the night. He put up his own tent and set about lighting a fire, some of the men had already wandered down to the river to try and catch some fish. Others had decided to go and spend their coin in the town, a few stopping to ask Theon if he'd like to join them in the brothel. He had declined and they had raised their brows. He knew that people were just waiting for him to slip back into his old whoring ways but he was determined to stay faithful to Adele. She was angry enough with him as it was without him taking a whore to bed. He sighed then as he warmed his hands over the flames. He couldn't stand her being angry with him but he had sensed her keeping it at bay when they had spent their last night together and said their farewells the next morning.

She had made love to him and let him hold her in his arms and whisper all manner of reassuring things to her and their baby as they lay in the dark but she was tense in his embrace. He said nothing of it though, not wanting to provoke her into shouting at him again. She seemed to think that he _wanted _to leave her but that couldn't be further from the truth. This was just his duty and he had to do it. There weren't many of them, they would be easily bested and then he could go home and set about making it up to her. She would forgive him properly then. She loved him. That was one thing she had looked him in the eye and promised before he left her. He closed his eyes then and conjured up her image, Gods he wished he could have her with him right now. A selfish thought but one he couldn't help. He opened his eyes then as a shout came up and he was on his feet in an instant as hundreds, if not thousands, of hooves could be heard against the ground.

"Who is it?!" he demanded, striding through the camp towards the noise.

"Tully banners!" someone shouted back and he instantly relaxed.

He waited then, his stance easy as the horses came to a halt, the footmen following on behind looking relieved to have stopped for the night. The looked uncertain whether or not they should be setting up camp but once their eyes caught the Stark banners fluttering in the night breeze they relaxed as Theon had on hearing their own banners were Tully. A tall, auburn haired man who reminded him very much of Robb approached then with a petite dark haired woman at his side. Theon assumed he must be Edmure Tully, Lady Stark had told him that her brother would soon be bringing reinforcements to the North now that so many men had been called to the Wall. The older man looked slightly confused and so Theon stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Lord Tully?" he questioned and the man nodded curtly, "Theon Greyjoy," he introduced.

"Greyjoy?" Edmure repeated, appraising him suspiciously as he grasped his hand.

"I'm a ward and guard at Winterfell," he said.

"You're a way from there," Edmure said, his brow furrowing.

"There have been attacks on the coast just west from here," Theon explained.

"Who?" Edmure asked.

"Ironborn," Theon answered and he raised his brows at him.

"Theon!" a familiar voice burst out then and he snapped his head round to see Sansa flying at him.

"Are you alright?!" he grasped her shoulders as she reached them.

"I'm fine," she nodded vigorously, "truly I'm alright"

"Thank the Gods," Theon smiled and she beamed back at him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him then, "Is my father here? Robb?" she looked hopeful.

"They're still at the Wall," he replied and her smile fell slightly; "but you're not far from Winterfell now … we are here to deal with a small coastal threat"

"Oh," she bit her lip slightly and glanced at her uncle.

"Could you use some extra men?" Edmure asked.

"I would never say no," Theon said gratefully.

"I will send the bulk towards Winterfell with Sansa and my wife tomorrow," he said, glancing at the brunette next to him Theon assumed was his wife.

"What about you my love?" she spoke up then, confirming his assumption.

"I will take a few hundred to aid Theon, he seems certain the threat is minor," Edmure answered her.

"That is what we have been told along the road," Theon confirmed.

"Then we should not be far behind you," he smiled reassuringly at his wife who didn't look entirely convinced. She said nothing though and Edmure turned back to Theon.

"We will rest up for the night, do you plan on attacking tomorrow?" he asked.

"We plan on riding further west at dawn," Theon confirmed, "hopefully we will catch up to them swiftly."

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Ned looked warily at Benjen before they entered the room that Mance Rayder had been chained heavily in. Benjen had a dark look on his face when he set eyes on the deserter and Ned inwardly hoped that his brother managed to keep himself calm. Many of the wildlings had scattered back where they came from now, all going their separate ways again now that they no longer had Mance keeping them united. There were a few thousand left, mainly women and children and the old and injured. They posed no threat of violence but Ned had made sure there were guards out beyond the Wall keeping a look out at all time. The wildlings that remained had formed some kind of camp and seemed to be waiting for some reason. Perhaps Mance would tell them why.

"Well?" Benjen snarled.

"Well?" Mance repeated.

"Why did you come against the Wall?" he asked.

"You want the truth crow?" Mance raised his brows.

"You mock me for the cloak I wear when you were once as black as I?" Benjen countered.

"Until I saw the light," Mance nodded in agreement.

"Come then … let us hear this truth," Benjen folded his arms.

"You been out ranging recently Stark?" Mance asked, meeting his eyes.

"Aye," Benjen said and for the first time Ned saw him looking uncomfortable.

"Aye," Mance chuckled slightly, "then you know damn well why we came"

"I want to hear you say it," he said firmly.

"Winter is coming …" Mance said, just as he had when he was captured, "the walkers have awakened"

"So you attack the Wall? The one thing stopping them getting through?" Ned asked despite himself.

"The one thing keeping us from safety," Mance snarled, "the Wall protects you not us!"

"You wanted to get through," Benjen said in understanding.

"We may be free folk … _wildlings … _but does that make us worthless? Does that mean we deserve to be destroyed by the walkers? Men. Women. Children. The walkers don't care they will take anyone but then … you already know that don't you Stark …" he trailed off, meeting Benjen's eyes.

"Why not come and treat? Why bring an army?" Ned asked as Benjen swallowed hard.

"And be hanged as a deserter as soon as I showed my face? You southerners don't care … would you have raised your gates for us? Would you fuck. Our only chance was to try and storm through ourselves only we weren't counting on you having such numbers. This was our chance, our only chance and you have scuppered it. We will all die now while you stay warm behind your Wall," Mance said bitterly.

"That's it?" Benjen asked.

"What more do you need? You have your reason Stark, now take my head and have done with it," he said with finality.

"Right," Benjen met his eyes uneasily for a moment before turning to leave. Ned followed suit but they both paused in the doorway when Mance spoke again.

"Wait!" he called, "What of Dalla? Of the babe?"

* * *

Dalla's hands were cold now, Val could feel it as she took one in her own. The fever had burned through her quickly, her skin aflame even though she was shaking uncontrollably. She had barely been able to speak but when she did it had been of her boy. Mance was doomed now he was captured and Dalla knew it. She had begged her to take care of her boy, begged her to do whatever it was she had to so long as it kept him safe. Val had promised she would and her sister seemed placated, finally closing her eyes, her shallow breathing the only thing telling Val that she was still alive. At some point she imagined that her own eyes had closed and when she opened them again her sister was gone. She had slipped away, her chest no longer battling to rise and fall. She was gone, with the Gods if they were just and good. Dalla would have to be burned and Val had told them all she would do it herself when she had given them the news that her sister was dead. None of them said a word; not the crows nor the hard-faced Northmen nor the fair man they called King. She had stared at them all, daring one of them to speak but none had the nerve. She had walked back into the chamber that Dalla had been taken to then and made her sister as presentable as she could, brushing her hair and cleansing her skin before dressing her in a fresh tunic and breeches.

Val let go of her hand then and stood, gazing down at her for a moment. The keep was silent and she knew from the dimness of the room that it was late into the night. The few candles she had lit were dancing away and the fire was burning low but still Val could not look away from Dalla's motionless form. She decided after a time that she looked peaceful and she swallowed hard and determined not to cry. She would not let any of those southerners see her weak and afraid, she had to be strong for Dalla's boy because she had made her a sister a promise and she intended to keep it. She thought she heard a noise behind her then and she whipped around only to see nothing. Likely it was the flicker of the candle casting shadows on the walls. She turned back to her sister then and tried to calm her pounding heart. In the next instant she was grabbed from behind, a hand clamped hard across her mouth and a blade held to her throat.

"Scream and I will slit your throat," the voice hissed in her ear.

"What do you want?" Val whispered when the hand moved away from her mouth.

"I want you to listen very carefully," the voice of a woman almost purred in her ear; "you are going to do something very important for me and in return you will be given everything Mance Rayder promised to you"

"What do you want?" Val repeated.

"I want you to kill that imposter who claims to be Aegon Targaryen, he has no claim, he is false and I want him gone and if you succeed those free folk who seek shelter behind the Wall will be granted land to settle on," the woman told her.

"How am I to believe you have the power to make such promises?" Val hissed.

"I have more power than you will ever know … I serve the true King and he is a man of his word, you have little choice but to trust me. Kill the false Targaryen and I will ensure it is done, that you and your people will live," she said silkily.

"How do you expect me to kill him?" Val asked desperately.

"I am sure I woman of your considerable charm will find a way," she whispered.

"And if I refuse?" Val asked.

"You won't refuse," she pressed the blade closer to Val's neck; "because if you do you will break that promise you made to your poor sister … what will that poor babe do without the one person who has any chance of ensuring he makes it to his first name day?"

"You threaten a new born babe?" Val gasped.

"I threaten anyone who threatens the true King … kill the imposter and you will be rewarded," she persuaded her and Val could see precious little choice.

"Fine," Val finally said; "fine, I'll do it … I'll kill him."

* * *

**A/N: **You can always count on Melisandre to throw a spanner in the works! Hope you enjoyed - more later in the week.

:)


	36. Contracts and Clashes

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter, a few people to respond to first of all though!

**KhayaForever1: **I'm sorry you feel that way but I assure you all my storylines are being written for a reason. I completely respect that Theon may not necessarily be your cup of tea but I did find it rather harsh that you referred to his storyline and my other storylines that don't feature Robb/Dany as 'faff'. I could understand your frustrations if I had billed this as a strictly Robb/Dany story but I have said from chapter one that I would be spanning a lot of Westeros and a lot of characters. I am trying to write a Game of Thrones story and there are a lot of players. I know the Starks are the heart of it but there is a lot more to the body of the story. I assure you I haven't forgotten about any of my characters and all these different storylines will weave together and have impacts on one another. I guess it's easier for me because I'm the one who has it all mapped out and knows how and when pieces will slot together. Robb and Dany are important, but I am afraid they're not the be all and end all of this fic and I never said they would be, I feel it would be a bad decision on my part to just write scenes with them in it just for the sake of it. Everything has to fit on my timeline and right now they're at the Wall and there isn't much I can do with them at the moment. Sorry if this comes across as a rant but as I mentioned earlier, it was kind of upsetting to have storylines I've been planning and working on for months dismissed as 'faff'. Hopefully you won't be put off the story but if you are I guess there isn't really anything I can do about it, I just hope you can give me the benefit of the doubt when it comes to my reasoning as I can't really say any more without giving all my plots away! :)

**Guest: **See below for the meeting! But I'm afraid there won't be any love story here. As much as I love Ygritte, I have other plans for Jon! As for Serra ... see below for more of her as well! :)

Right guys, apologies for holding you up! Hope you enjoy this one and I will get another out to you at the weekend!

:)

* * *

**Contracts and Clashes**

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

"Fuck you," the girl spat.

"Charming," Robb muttered, sparing her a withering look before raising his eyebrows at Jon.

"You need to eat," Jon said softly then and she glared at him.

"Fuck. You." She reiterated and Jon sighed heavily.

"You know it doesn't need to be like this … they are making plans for those of you who are prepared to live peacefully to settle on The Gift," Jon told her.

"Like I believe a word from your mouth crow," she sneered at him.

"I'm not a man of the Watch," he told her calmly.

"You sure look like a crow," she looked at him suspiciously.

"I like to wear black," he tried a smile for her but her face remained stony.

"I give up," Robb said, "you keep trying if you want but I have better things to do"

"That one thinks he's a Lord," the girl said as soon as Robb was gone.

"That one is my brother, and he is a Lord," Jon told her and she scowled at him.

"You a Lord as well?" she mocked him.

"No," he said, meeting her eyes, "I'm a bastard, now are you going to eat this food or not?"

She said nothing but snatched the bowl of broth from him and took a suspicious sniff of it. Jon resisted rolling his eyes at her. All the other wildlings who had been captured had seemed happy enough to accept their meals, grateful that they weren't going to the block and on their best behaviour when they found out about the possibility of settling south of the Wall. Not this one thought. This one's temper was as fiery as her hair but at least she had finally agreed to eat something.

"What's your name?" Jon asked her once she had drained the contents of the bowl.

"None of your business Snow," she shot at him and he looked at her pointedly.

"Seems unfair you know my name and I don't know yours," he raised his brows.

"Lots of bastards are named Snow," she returned and he laughed despite himself.

"Northern bastards aye," he agreed, "my name is Jon … and yours?"

"Ygritte," she finally said and he tried not to smile.

"I'd like to say it's been a pleasure …" he trailed off and the corners of her lips twitched up.

"Is it true?" she asked, "About The Gift?"

"As I said … if there is an agreement to live peacefully. You wouldn't be free folk any longer, you would have to abide by the laws of the North," he told her.

"Don't you ever get sick of the laws?" she asked.

"They're there for a reason," he said and she rolled her eyes; "you know if you can find it in you to be a little more gracious they might consider letting you go too"

"I'll think about it," she said moodily.

* * *

"Alright," he sighed, rising to his feet and taking her empty bowl from her. She didn't thank him but her eyes weren't full of the usual disdain when he made to leave the room. Apparently he had managed to make some progress with her and about time too.

"Enough!" Ned raised his hand and his Lords fell silent; "I have heard enough … I will ask his Grace to consider it but I can do no more, we already agreed terms. If he is not agreeable then I will not force the issue but … but I will explain how keen you all are for the match."

They mumbled their thanks then and he raised his hand to gesture for them to leave and they did so with short bows and 'my Lord's'. He sighed heavily once he was alone. He should be euphoric, on top of the world now that he knew his lost daughter was almost home at Winterfell. She could even have arrived by now depending how long it had taken Catelyn's letter to reach him. That thought did have him smiling but then he remembered the conversation he had just had with his Lords. He should have guessed what they had wanted but he had betrothed Sansa to a boy who would seat the throne before and that had not ended the way it should have. He sat heavily and put his head in his hands, they had put pressure on him and he had agreed to ask now. Perhaps Aegon would say no. Ned doubted it though, the man wouldn't want to cause offence to the man who had more than tripled the size of his army and who could call on even more numbers as they marched south.

They would leave for Winterfell soon Ned imagined, once the dead were dealt with and those men they had injured were well enough to travel. It might take another week or more but at least there would be no more fighting. It had already been agreed that a thousand men would stay at the Wall for the time being as there was still the threat of the walkers to be concerned with. Once Aegon took the throne he would have Dragonstone back in his grasp as well and the obsidian deposits there would have to be mined and crafted into dragonglass weapons that would be sent to the Wall. Ned sighed heavily and put his head in his hands, massaging his temples. There was so much to do, even if they got Aegon on the throne he knew the war would be far from over. Did he really want Sansa in one of the most dangerous places in Westeros when that happened? _She has survived it once and now I would send her back. _

"Lord Stark?" he recognised Aegon's tones from just outside the room.

"Aye your Grace," he confirmed and in the next moment the fair man stepped inside.

"You wanted to see me?" Aegon raised his brows before easing himself into a seat.

"I did," Ned confirmed, "I know we have already agreed terms and I would not ask for anymore if you are unwilling to grant it"

"You have thought of something else?" Aegon smiled slightly.

"My Lords more than myself," Ned confessed, "my daughter … Sansa, she will soon be safely back at Winterfell"

"I'm delighted to hear it," Aegon said and Ned forced a smile for him.

"My Lords wondered if you would consider taking her as your wife once this is done … a way to further cement our alliance if you will," Ned told him.

"I see," Aegon said lightly and Ned could tell he was pondering the request.

Aegon looked intently at the troubled looking older man then before sighing heavily. He could tell that Ned Stark was less than thrilled with the idea of betrothing his daughter to him and he couldn't blame the man after she had spent so long trapped in the Capitol. It wouldn't have to be like that if she married him though, he would treat her with kindness, the way a Queen should be treated. He hadn't given much thought to who would become his Queen but why not Sansa Stark? Ned was right, it would cement the alliance and he knew it would keep the northern Lords happy and it was best they were kept happy since they would be far from his reach when he took the Capitol. He considered Ned for another few moments before slowly nodding his head.

"Yes," he said, "it would be my pleasure to join our houses even more securely. I will take the Lady Sansa as my Queen once all this is done with."

* * *

Val saw him emerge from one of the towers of Castle Black as she was escorted back towards her own tower. Her prison more like, she thought bitterly. At least she had been granted permission to go out beyond the Wall and see her sister's body given to the Gods, the flames and smoke swirling high up into the sky. The baby had been kept from her but one of the men who brought her meals to her had assured her that he was being taken care of. A wet nurse had been sent for from Moletown and until she arrived he seemed to be more than thriving on goat's milk. Val wanted to see him with her own eyes though but for now it had been forbidden. She looked towards the Targaryen then as he strode towards her. The false Targaryen that woman in red had told her. She cared neither way. False or not he was naught to her. The people though … they needed to come south of the Wall and she needed her nephew in her own arms so she could raise him the way Dalla would have wanted. At least she had seen Dalla go to the Gods, it must have been him who gave her permission. The Targaryen that they all called King.

"Your Grace?" she said when he came close enough to hear her and he looked surprised at her greeting.

"My Lady?" he returned, raising his brows slightly.

"Forgive us your Grace," one of the guards spoke up before she could; "we don't wish to trouble you, we were escorting the prisoner back to her chamber"

"The prisoner is a Princess is she not, at least beyond the Wall," he raised his brows, "speak," he directed to her then.

"I merely wanted to thank you your Grace, for giving permission for me to see my sister safely to the Gods," she said, meeting his eyes.

"You're welcome," he said, "unhand her," he said to her guards and they did so at once; "perhaps we could raise a glass to your sister?"

"I wouldn't want to trouble your Grace," she said as he fixed her with a searching look.

"No trouble," he said, holding out his arm which she hesitantly took after a moment. Her other hand shook as they walked. She wasn't ready for this. She had not expected to get him alone so quickly.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Stannis pressed his lips lightly against his bride's lips as the Septon concluded the ceremony. Melisandre would be furious when she found out he had married in the faith of the Seven but she didn't understand the way he did how angry the smallfolk would become if their Gods were taken away over-night. It had to be done slowly. Carefully. Stannis didn't care either way but the people did. They worshipped the Seven and his position as King was shaky enough as it was. One wrong move and the revolts would begin. Stannis only hoped that Melisandre's trip to the Wall would be as productive as her visit to Renly. True or not this brand new Targaryen was a threat and it was best he was extinguished now before he could even begin to march south. He glanced sideways at his new Queen as she lay her hand on his arm when they turned from the Septon to walk from the Sept to the grand dining hall for the feast. She had a smile on her face, whether it was genuine or not he didn't know but at least she looked the part. Now she just had to act it. The sooner she was with child the better. He needed a son and he needed one quickly.

He tried with some difficulty not to grimace as they walked into the dining hall to fanfare and people clapping and cheering them. Instead he forced a smile to his face the way a King should, the way Renly would have to win people over. He wasn't Renly though and nor would he want to be, being carefree and loved had done nothing for him in the end. Better people feared him for the most part. When it came to the Queen though he would have to show devotion. She was beautiful and if he was seen to treat her well then people would see his softer side. He already knew the people would love Erinne Swann, bouquets had been thrown at her feet wherever she walked for the past days leading up to their nuptials. They cheered for her in a way they would never cheer for him but that mattered not as he could bask in her reflected glow. How could he be a monster when his wife was so sweet and devoted? His smile was more genuine as he sat down at the head of the table with his young wife next to him. She would bring the people to his side without even trying, besides a son, what more could he ask for?

Erinne turned her smile on him then and he returned it before raising her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it. The people would love that. His wife's smile widened at his gesture and he returned the action, only dropping her hand when the first of many courses was placed in front of them. Erinne thanked the serving boys and girls and they blushed and stuttered their own thanks to her as they bowed and curtseyed deeply before their King and Queen. Stannis smirked slightly, this was already going better than he had imagined. He only hoped this good fortune extended to the bedchamber. As the meal went on Stannis was caught up in conversation with Mace Tyrell who was sat on his other side. Erinne knew that the man was desperate to be named Hand but she imagined her husband would choose his smuggling friend. Davos seemed a good sort of man despite his past but she was not entirely convinced that he would be able to run the Seven Kingdom's. Her own father would be a much better choice in her opinion but she was not foolish enough to voice it. She let her eyes wander the hall then until they were caught by _his. _Her heart seemed to stop as he held her gaze and she felt her own eyes well with tears as she took in his heartbroken expression. She swallowed hard then as her husband lay his hand on hers to draw her attention and she blinked rapidly to compose herself before turning to give him her undivided attention.

* * *

_The Saltpans _

* * *

They weren't far enough from the town to risk a fire so Jaime had given all the furs he had managed to carry from the smuggling boat to the children and Jeyne. The girl had tried to protest but he had insisted. He would never have slept anyway. Thoughts of Cersei were hounding him and he was constantly wondering if he was doing the right thing in going to the Rock. He wished he knew where Tyrion was or that his brother had left him some kind of instruction with Varys. The Eunuch hadn't cautioned him against heading towards Casterly Rock and so he could only imagine that it wasn't a bad idea. At least they could hole themselves up there and perhaps make some kind of deal later on. Stannis would never negotiate with him but Jaime wouldn't be surprised if he was soon usurped. He had heard from some of the smuggler's on the vessel they were carried on that Ned Stark had allied with the miraculously undead Aegon Targaryen. Jaime could say a lot of things about Stark but he was no fool and he could only imagine that the boy was real. He wasn't sure he would have better luck with him than with Stannis but he did have Jeyne Poole with him. If he treated her with kindness then that would reflect well on him, at least in northern eyes. He heard shuffling behind him then and he turned around, said Jeyne seemed to be tossing and turning in her sleep. He frowned slightly when she began to whimper, she sounded as though she was in pain and he inched closer to her only for her eyes to fly open before he could touch her. Instinctively he put his hand over her mouth to stop the scream escaping. She looked even more panicked then, her eyes wide and scared as he loomed over her in the darkness.

"It's alright," he whispered, "I'm not going to hurt you, you were dreaming that's all but I had to stop you screaming or we might have been discovered. I'm going to let go now … don't scream"

She sat up when he moved his hand away, her chest rapidly rising and falling as her eyes darted about her as though she was trying to remember exactly where she was. When her eyes fell on the sleeping Tommen and Myrcella she seemed to calm down, her breathing less ragged and the tension somewhat leaving her body.

"Do you want some water?" Jaime asked her.

"Thank you Ser," she said and he handed her one of the skins.

"Better?" he asked once she had drank her fill and handed it back to him.

"Yes," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes.

"What was the dream?" he asked her.

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head.

"I have dreams sometimes, unpleasant ones … memories …" he trailed off.

"I hate remembering," she said then, her eyes still firmly on the ground.

"Remembering what?" he whispered.

"That woman," her tone hardened, "what she made me do … how she sold my … she let those men touch me, spoil me …"

"No man will ever touch you again without your consent," Jaime promised her then.

"I fear it matters not either way," she looked up to meet his eyes, "I am little more than a whore now"

"You are no whore," he said firmly.

"But I am no Lady," she smiled wryly, "not without my innocence"

"Trust me Jeyne, few are innocent in this world," he sighed.

"You don't sleep," she stated then.

"As I said, you are not the only one who has unpleasant dreams," he said.

"What do you dream of?" she asked him quietly and he sighed. She had told him hers after all.

"The mad King mostly, but since … since we left I have dreamt of my sister," he confessed.

"Oh," she said, not knowing what else to say. She didn't have the nerve to ask him if the rumours about them were true.

"I left her there, no doubt to die … my other half, my twin … how could I do that?" he shook his head.

"You must have had your reasons," Jeyne said quietly.

"Oh I did," he nodded, "I had a thousand reasons … but she was my sister"

"She was trying to kill your brother," she stated.

"Tyrion was good to you?" Jaime turned to look at her and she met his eyes when she answered.

"He concealed me in his own chambers and never made me do anything like they did in the brothel," she said, "he took meals with me and brought me books and needlework so I wouldn't get bored. He spoke kindly to me and made me laugh … even when he was imprisoned he made sure that I was taken care of. Your brother is a good man Ser."

"He is," Jaime agreed, his tone slightly bitter.

"And so are you," she said, meeting his eyes again and he had no other words for her.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Serra got up from her seat in the window when she heard her father calling. Her stomach had been in a constant state of tension for the last days while she waited for Gendry to explain his plan to her. He hadn't though, merely imploring her to trust him when she asked him about it. Something about the way he looked into her eyes made her believe that he knew what he was doing and so she had agreed to give him time. If his idea came to nothing though she would have to confess and the thought of doing so made her legs shake as she walked down the stairs. Her father was beaming when she came to the bottom and she forced a smile to her own face before her eyes slid to Gendry whose expression was unreadable.

"You wanted me father?" she managed then.

"Yes," if anything his smile stretched even more, "I have a match for you"

"You …?" she trailed off, dread gripping her stomach.

"He's been under my nose this whole time," her father continued.

"He has?" she managed weakly.

"Aye," he nodded, "and when Gendry asked me I couldn't refuse, he's a good man Serra and he knows a good trade, you will be well looked after"

"I …" she frowned, glancing towards Gendry, "what?"

"You are to marry Gendry," her father told her then and her eyes widened.

"I …" she stuttered again, "I don't know what to say, I …"

"Perhaps I should give you a moment," her father smiled then before stepping forward to embrace her for a moment, still beaming when he pulled away. He made for the door then, clapping Gendry on the back as he went. Serra turned her eyes on him as soon as the door closed and noticed that he looked almost apprehensive. She couldn't believe he had done this. That this had been his plan. No wonder he hadn't told her, she would have rejected it at once.

"You don't have to do this," she told him, meeting his eyes.

"Do what?" he frowned.

"Marry me to try and spare my shame," she said, shaking her head.

"I never thought I'd get to marry anyone," Gendry said and she frowned.

"Then why me?" she asked.

"Because I wanted to help you, and you're kind and … beautiful," he dropped his gaze at the word, "and I can take good care of you, I would never mistreat you"

"I know that," she whispered, "but this is too much Gendry …"

"Do you not want to marry me?" he looked crestfallen.

"I never said that!" she said quickly, "I just … I just never expected you to do this"

"I didn't know if it would work," he confessed, "your father told me if there was ever anything he could do to repay me then I only had to name it. I never expected to name you … and when I did part of me thought he would say no, I am still a bastard after all but he agreed. As he said … I know a good trade and I can take care of you, he even offered to give me the name Cassel."

"Gendry I …" she shook her head, taking a few steps closer to him, "I don't know how I am ever going to thank you for this"

"Having someone as wonderful as you for my wife is all the thanks I need," he said.

"You are the wonderful one Gendry," she insisted, stepping even closer to him and reaching up to plant a light kiss to his cheek.

* * *

_Salt Spear_

* * *

Theon was up to his knees in the water as he clashed swords with his opponent who was seemingly twice his size. He clashed his sword against his but the man's brute strength won out and he pushed against the steel with his own and Theon staggered backwards. For a moment he saw his end, he saw the sword being plunged right through him. He saw the blood gushing into the water and being swept away almost instantly on the waves. He saw Adele swathing her expanding stomach in black and weeping for him, telling his motionless body over and over that he should never have ridden out to the coast. The blow never came though as the man faltered, his eyes fixed on something.

"Greyjoy?" he whispered, and Theon was so stunned by his recognition that he missed his own chance to finish him off. The man came for him then but instead of sticking him with his blade he cuffed his arm around his neck, the other twisting his hand and forcing him to drop his sword before he pulled his other arm around his chest and began dragging him further into the water. Gods was he going to drown him?

"Let go!" Theon struggled against him but the man was huge and other Ironborn were coming around him, asking their garbled questions about what he was doing.

"He's Greyjoy!" the man holding him declared, "He's the missing son!"

"Let go of me you bastard!" Theon demanded struggling with all his strength.

"We need to get him to the boats, Lord Greyjoy will want his son alive," the man ignored him.

"How do you know it's him?" one of the others demanded.

"The pin on his lapel," the man said, "saw it pinned on him the day Stark took him hostage, and he has the Greyjoy look, what's your name boy?"

"Theon," Theon confessed, knowing that if he denied it they would slit his throat. At least this way he would live and have some chance of getting back to Adele.

"Told you," the man said, hauling him towards a boat.

"Unhand me!" Theon tried once more.

The man holding him lost all patience then, snatching a club from one of his comrades and smacking it about Theon's head. He went limp at once and was ever so easy to haul up onto one of the boats. Those left on shore would perish, the northern and Tully forces easily outnumbered them but he had something worth the sacrifice. He had Balon Greyjoy's last remaining son alive. He would be greatly rewarded for this, for bringing the heir to the Iron Islands back to where he belonged.

* * *

**A/N: **A fair bit going on there ... as you can probably guess, the Ironborn will be making their appearance soon at long last ;)

More soon guys, hope you enjoyed.

:)


	37. Temptation

**A/N: **New chapter guys, hope you all enjoy it! I will get another one up for you early next week.

Your thoughts as always would be much appreciated and I just wanted to say a big thanks to you all for reading. The number of follows/favourites this fic has caught my eye earlier and I was more than a little overwhelmed. Thanks so much and enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Temptation **

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Roslin looked over at Sansa as they rode under the gates of Winterfell and saw that tears were streaming silently down her face. Before she could move to pull the handkerchief from her sleeve and give it to her Olyvar on her other side had fished out one of his own and offered it. Roslin smiled knowingly, her brother claimed to have taken the role as Edmure's squire and come to the North for her but it was glaringly obvious why he had truly come. Sansa Stark was beautiful and her brother barely left her side, forever catching her up in conversation and seeking her out at mealtimes so he could sit and speak with her. Roslin wanted to laugh at his claim he had come for her, he barely spent any time with her until Edmure had ridden off with the Northmen to beat back the Ironborn. He had been concerned then but she had reassured him that everything would be alright. She prayed several times a day for her husband's safe return and she had faith that the Gods would answer her. They were coming up to the keep now and Roslin tugged on the reins of her horse to halt her, others doing the same around her.

A woman who could only be Lady Stark flew out of the open double doors at once and hurried down the steps as Sansa slid down her horse, for once not waiting for Olyvar's helping hand. Her brother came instead to help her down and she fixed her eyes on Sansa and her mother as they reached one another in a tight embrace. She glanced up at Olyvar and he offered her his arm after a moment which she took before they began to walk slowly towards the reunited Stark's.

"Oh Sansa!" Catelyn finally pulled away slightly, "I cannot believe you are finally here!"

"I'm sorry mother, I never should have left Jory!" Sansa burst out, tears falling from her eyes again.

"Never mind that now, what happened? Have you been hurt?!" Catelyn demanded.

"No … not really … not since the Hound got me away from the Capitol," Sansa replied.

"Thank the Gods," Catelyn held her tightly for a moment before noticing Roslin and Olyvar stood waiting; "where is Edmure Sansa?"

"We met Theon on the road," Sansa told her, "he has taken men to help; he said they would not be too long behind us … but this is Roslin"

"My new sister," Catelyn smiled kindly, coming forward to take Roslin's hand and place a kiss to each of her cheeks.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Stark," Roslin smiled in return.

"Catelyn, please," she corrected her, "we are family after all"

"Of course," Roslin's smile widened, "allow me to introduce my brother, Olyvar is Edmure's squire"

"You're most welcome here, all of you," Catelyn said seriously.

"Edmure knew you wouldn't ask him to come unless you truly needed him," Roslin said.

"No," Catelyn agreed, "with most of our own men at the Wall we needed more on the border"

"Edmure garrisoned plenty on the way," Olyvar spoke up reassuringly then and Catelyn smiled.

"I will thank him when he arrives … now, perhaps we should take some wine?" she suggested.

"Where are Arya and the boys?" Sansa frowned slightly.

"In the tiltyard," Catelyn sighed and Sansa could see her mother was less than pleased with their whereabouts and it made her smile. She had missed this normality.

"I'll go and see them before I come in," she said and her mother's expression turned to that of smiling understanding.

"Would you like me to escort you my Lady?" Olyvar asked.

"No thank you," Sansa smiled, "go in and enjoy a rest, I'm home now … I'm safe here."

* * *

Sansa could feel her cheeks aching but still she could not stop smiling as she took the long route to the tiltyard so she could take in all the familiar sights of Winterfell that she had never imagined she would miss when she packed up her things all those months ago. If she never left here again she would be happy but she knew it was likely that duty would have her betrothed and married to some Lord. Not that she minded that so much, whoever her father chose next for her could never be as bad as Joffrey had been. She shook her head slightly as she entered the yard, she did not want to think about him now, she wanted Arya and Bran and Rickon in her arms and she wanted to tell them how sorry she was that she had left them. Rickon saw her first and he let out a squeal of delight that had laughter bursting from her. Arya turned from her sword training at the sound and Sansa was relieved to see her drop her sword and race towards her as she caught Rickon in her arms. Bran seemed to come up behind her then and before she knew it all four of them were embracing and exclaiming, laughing and crying at the same time. Gods she had missed them. She never realised how much she would miss them, even Arya despite their frequent fights. When she had been alone she had found herself wishing her sister was there, even if it was just for an argument.

"I'm sorry I left you," she whispered and Bran and Arya seemed to hold her even closer.

"I'm sorry we left you," Arya whispered back and even more tears came from Sansa's eyes.

"You had to," she said.

"Was it horrible?" Bran asked her quietly.

"Not always," she lied, "it doesn't matter now anyway because I'm home"

"And you won't leave again?" Rickon asked, his eyes wide.

"Not until I have to," she promised and he nodded, looking slightly crestfallen but understanding.

"We missed you," Arya said simply then and those simple words meant the world to Sansa.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Shireen was quiet as Erinne ran a brush gently through the Princess' hair. Usually she would chatter away happily and Erinne wondered if something was troubling the girl. She stuck a few pins into her hair and smiled at her in the mirror, slightly relieved when the girl smiled back. Erinne knew it must be strange for her, especially now as Stannis insisted Erinne spend more time with her and be as a mother to her. It wasn't that Erinne minded spending time with Shireen, the girl was sweet and very good company. What bothered her was playing the role of her mother. Shireen was twelve, almost thirteen, she was not some babe that could have her mother replaced so easily. Erinne didn't want Shireen to see her as a mother, she would prefer to be a friend to her and perhaps in time a confidant. She sighed as she stuck a few more pins into her dark hair.

"Is something wrong?" Shireen asked her and she shook her head.

"Of course not," Erinne smiled, "you have lovely hair Shireen, perhaps I will ask your father to have some jewelled clasps made for your name day"

"Thank you," Shireen smiled shyly.

"You're welcome," she said warmly, smiling at her again in the mirror.

"Father said I'm to have tea with my betrothed at the end of the week," Shireen told her then.

"Really?" Erinne said, keeping her tone even.

"Yes," Shireen confirmed, "but my Septa said I must have a chaperone"

"Of course, but you know Lord Willas is an honourable man," Erinne told her.

"Would you be my chaperone? I don't want the Septa with me she always makes a fuss and treats me as though I am a small child," Shireen said.

"Of course I will, with your father's permission of course," Erinne replied.

"Thank you," Shireen smiled shyly.

"You're welcome," Erinne returned the gesture and pinned the last of her hair up.

"Do you think you'll have a baby soon?" Shireen asked then, turning on her stool to face her.

"If the Gods are good," she said quietly.

"I hope you do … I like you, I don't want you to go to the Gods like my mother," Shireen said.

"What do you mean?" Erinne asked slightly shakily.

"She only had me and that wasn't good enough, father needed a boy but she couldn't give him one," she said and Erinne swallowed hard.

"Shireen …" she began.

"Thank you for doing my hair," the girl beamed up at her.

"You're welcome," she said in a slightly dazed voice as the door opened.

It was Stannis and Erinne took a deep breath to compose herself before she turned away from Shireen to smile at her husband. Stannis didn't smile often but he made a show of it when they were in public. She knew he was trying to make an effort with the people but she wished he would extend the same courtesies when they were in private. It was not so much herself she was bothered with as her father had warned her not to expect much affection from her marriage. She was however bothered about Shireen, the girl had lost her mother and her father was distant to put it mildly. Perhaps with gentle persuasion Stannis might consider spending just a little more time with his daughter.

"We weren't expecting you my love," Erinne said and his lips barely twitched up.

"I was told you were here," he said, "we will be dining with the Tyrell's after Shireen's tea with Willas, I want you to look your best"

"Of course my love," she said, smiling serenely at him as she always did.

"Yes," he nodded, his gaze shifting to Shireen.

"Shireen asked me to chaperone her to her tea with Lord Willas … with your permission of course," Erinne said then and he nodded absently again.

"Of course," he said.

"Thank you," she smiled again and he managed a slightly forced one in return.

"I will dine in your chambers tonight," he said and she swallowed.

"I look forward to it my love," she said. He only ever dined in her chambers for one purpose and it was when he intended to bed her. She enjoyed many of her duties as Queen but that was not one she was particularly fond of. Her gaze slid to Shireen then and her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she thought of the words the girl had spoken to her just before.

* * *

Loras stood outside the door shifting uncomfortably as he couldn't help but hear the noises that were coming from within. Initially he had been pleased to be placed in the Queensguard as it meant he would not have to trail Stannis around all day and resist the frequent urges to slit his throat. The Queen was a lovely woman which only served to make it worse when he had to stand guard outside her chamber door while Stannis fucked her. Thankfully it wasn't every night and on the night's he didn't come she would often invite Loras to share a drink with her. He enjoyed those nights, she was immensely good company and he couldn't help but grudgingly admire Stannis' choice of bride. The people may not have taken to him but they were besotted with his Queen and that kept them from grumbling. Personally Loras wished they would grumble. He wished they would arm themselves in a rebellion. He wished Ned Stark would hurry up and march with his new Targaryen. He didn't care if Aegon was real or not, he would rather see a beggar on that throne than Stannis Baratheon. He leant his head back against the wall in relief as the noises from within the Queen's chamber ceased, straightening up in the next instant as he knew Stannis would soon be leaving. Never had he stayed the night with her, as soon as he got what he came for he dressed and left. Even on the wedding night he had upped and left her. Gods he was cold, Loras had heard her cries of pain and when Stannis left he had heard her crying through the door. He himself wanted to go in there and comfort her and she was nothing to him. How Stannis could have just left her in such a state he didn't know but it made him hate him even more.

Sure enough, a moment later the handle of the door turned and Loras stared straight ahead as Stannis closed it behind him before striding purposefully away. He didn't even spare a glance for Loras and he was glad of it, anytime his eyes met his he wanted to gouge them out. It was unfair, unjust. How was it that an unfeeling bastard like Stannis was allowed to live when kind-hearted, jovial Renly was murdered? He swallowed hard then, thinking of Renly made him think of Margaery and of her baby. She would be settled at Winterfell now if she had made it there and he imagined the child would come in a few moons time. Gods he hoped she had made it. He hoped that she was safe and well and that her and her baby would thrive in the North. It was the least that child deserved after its father was snatched away from it when it was barely conceived. He leant his head back against the wall as he thought he heard the sound of the Queen crying inside her chamber. Damn it all he wanted to comfort her but he knew he couldn't. Damn it all he fucking hated Stannis Baratheon.

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

"Well?" Dany asked as Robb entered their chambers and he grimaced at her.

"We won't be leaving for another week at least," he told her and she sighed.

"What about Mance?" she asked.

"I think Benjen wants to do it but by rights he's a deserter and it is down to my father to pass the sentence and swing the sword," Robb said.

"When will he die?" she asked then.

"Soon," he replied.

"Will he get to see his son?" she inquired, shuffling forwards to lay her hands on Robb's shoulders as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I doubt it," Robb said and she sighed.

"That poor baby, both parents gone and he is barely a week old," she said sadly.

"He'll be alright," he said softly, "you were," he smiled and she squeezed his shoulders.

"True enough," she said, "what will happen to him?"

"I think Aegon means to give him over to the care of his aunt," he told her.

"Val?" Dany narrowed her eyes slightly, "He is spending an awful lot of time with her"

"He feels sorry for her, we all do," Robb said.

"Nothing to do with how beautiful she is then?" she asked him with a frown.

"You're not jealous are you?" he teased her, moving further back onto the bed.

"No," she scowled, shifting herself so he could lay down.

"Are you sure?" he grinned, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers as she sat at his side.

"Yes," she met his eyes and he snorted slightly.

"No woman is as beautiful as you," he told her.

"Stop it," she said.

"Stop what?" he asked innocently.

"Making me smile when I'm annoyed with you," she said, her lips twitching upwards.

"Why are you annoyed with me?" he asked.

"I know you think she's beautiful, all the men do … they are enamoured with her," she pouted.

"I have no interest in her," Robb insisted.

"Truly?" she looked sceptical.

"Truly," he confirmed, "I have you, I need no other, now stop being ridiculous and come and lay down with me"

"I hope Aegon remembers he's betrothed," she said as she shifted into his arms.

"So do I," Robb kissed her forehead, "if he shames my sister I will have to punch him"

"Any excuse," Dany muttered and he grinned, tightening his hold on her as she snuggled closer to him.

* * *

It had become their routine over the last few days, sharing a drink in his chambers after dinner. Val knew she shouldn't but she enjoyed his company; he didn't seem like a King in her presence, with her he was just a man and she was irritated with herself for how much she liked him. False or not she didn't care either way but something about him made her feel as though he was genuine. As though she could trust him. That only made it worse, what she had to do nagging at the back of her mind. She had toyed with the idea of telling him but she was too afraid. That red woman had power she was certain of it, she had to be some kind of sorceress to make her way into Castle Black undetected. Val just knew that the second she told Aegon the truth she would sign her own death warrant and that of her sister's son. She couldn't do that. The babe was innocent, he deserved a chance at life. She glanced at Aegon then as he filled them another glass of wine. Was he not innocent too? He had never done her wrong, even with her in his chambers night after night he had never made any advance on her. She had thought that perhaps he didn't desire her but she knew he did, he had that look in his eyes when he looked at her that told her he would be more than happy to have her in his bed.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the newly filled glass.

"To peace," he raised his own.

"Peace," she agreed, clinking her glass against his and hating herself.

She should have done it that first time. The first time he had invited her to share a drink with him she should have done it then. When he said Dalla's name though and raised the glass to her such a genuine expression of empathy crossed his face that she could not bring herself to do it. The next night he had told her of his joy at discovering he had a brother and how happy he was that they were bonding. He had spoken of his aunt and how kind she was and joked about how he didn't think her husband liked him very much. The night after that she had told him about her own family, what she remembered about her parents and how she and Dalla had always been so close. It didn't feel right, killing him after that. He trusted her in his chambers with a dagger in the belt around her waist and all the time she knew she had to plunge it into his chest. Tears welled up then and before she could compose herself one had escaped and trickled down her cheek. His hand came gently under her chin then and she saw the look of concern in his eyes as he tilted her face up to meet his.

"You've been kind to me," she whispered, "too kind …"

"I obviously haven't been kind enough if I've made you weep," he said softly, his fingers brushing her tears away.

"I wish …" she leant into his touch despite herself, shifting closer to him, perching on the edge of her chair.

"You wish?" he questioned, mirroring her movement, his face only inches from hers now.

"I wish it were simple, that we could be free to do as we liked … just for a moment," she whispered.

"How about a night?" he breathed, leaning so close she could feel his warm breath on her lips, almost taste the wine he had drank.

"Yes," she said, closing the tiny gap and pressing her lips to his.

He deepened the kiss at once, he had been desiring her since the moment he first laid eyes on her, so strong and defiant as she wrestled against her guards, furious with them that they would not let her be with her sister. She had barely spared him a glance when he ordered them to let her go into the chamber with her sister, she had barely noticed him but he had noticed her. After that she frequently haunted his dreams and these past nights he had spent in her company had driven him almost wild. He knew he was betrothed to another and he would not break the promise he had made to Lord Stark and the northern Lords but he had to have Val. He had to have her. He grasped her shoulders as he slid his tongue into her mouth, encouraging her to stand as he too rose to his feet, his lips not leaving hers as she kissed him back eagerly. Gods he was aching for her, he was so hard in his breeches he thought it a wonder he didn't explode. His hands fumbled at her clothing then and her own came to his, deftly unlacing his doublet as he unbuckled her belt and felt for the hem of her tunic. She had already discarded her furs when she entered his chamber and he could feel as he tugged the material up that she had nothing on beneath the white tunic.

She broke their kiss then, shoving away from him slightly, dragging his doublet away from his shoulders and forcing him to take his hands from her so he could let it fall to the floor. Before he could place his hands back on her and tug her tunic over her head she was practically ripping at his shirt and he helped her pull it over his head and toss it aside. Her eyes appraised his bare torso then and he seized his chance to pull up her tunic and throw it away from her. His own eyes took in her ample chest, his hands trailing up her sides, feeling the softness of her skin and hearing her sigh softly when his touch found her breasts. She pressed herself closer then, kissing his neck as her hands trailed down his chest and stomach to find the laces of his breeches. He groaned in pleasure despite himself as she unlaced him and wrapped her hand gently around his length.

"I can't promise you anything," he panted out as she slid her hand up and down.

"I don't want your promises," her breath was ragged in his ear; "I just want you"

At her words his hands came to her own breeches, feeling the soft wool of them as he tugged them down, pulling her towards the bed as he did so. She gasped as his hands came to her hips and pressed her firmly down against the mattress. Her chest was heaving and her eyes wide with anticipation as his hands came to tug her boots away from her and slide her breeches the rest of the way off. She lay there completely bare and aching for him as he tore his eyes regretfully away from her so he could discard his own boots and breeches. He crawled up between her legs when he was bare, sliding his hand high up on her thigh as she wrapped them around his waist. He vaguely wondered if she had done this before, her confident touch and actions made him feel like she had but he didn't care, he was no maid either. Val gasped as he let his hand touch between her legs, feeling her wet and ready for him. Her thighs tightened around his waist and he knew that neither of them could hold on anymore and so he pressed his length against her, pushing slowly inside her and hearing her moan of pleasure.

He was almost relieved to feel no barrier, relieved that he didn't have to cause her pain, that he would be able to just give her pleasure. She rocked her hips up to meet his as he began to thrust into her, her nails digging sharply into his shoulders before raking down his back, the sting of them making him growl out and arch his back, the movement causing him to bury deeper inside her. A moan left her then and a cry of delight when he pushed himself that far again. The movement of her hips encouraged him to rock his own faster and she met his pace as she cried out breathlessly beneath him, her hands touching every part of his body that they could reach before cupping around his face and practically dragging his lips to hers. He kissed her until she pushed him away from her, her breathing laboured as he pushed her closer to her release. Aegon let his lips come to her neck instead, suckling on the soft flesh there and making her moan out again as she climbed even higher. When she began to tighten around him he groaned against her shoulder, Gods she felt good, so warm and wonderful around him as she came to her end. She moaned in desperate relief and satisfaction in his ear as he finished her and he rocked into her once more before his own body was spent, collapsing against her as he spilled himself deep inside her.

The only sound was their ragged breathing as they lay there as one, both of them trying to calm themselves. He could feel Val's hand stroking through his hair and he let his own rub gently up and down her hip in response. After what felt like an age he regretfully shifted up, sliding out of her irresistible warmth and disentangling his limbs from hers, rolling onto his back and breathing a sigh of satisfaction. Val shifted then, moving towards the edge of the bed but he reached out for her, enclosing his hand gently around her wrist and she moved her eyes to his.

"Stay," he said softly.

"I shouldn't," she shook her head.

"Please," he gazed up at her and her resolve weakened.

She said nothing, merely shifting back onto the bed and laying her head down against his chest, letting him wrap his warm arms around her and smiling despite herself at the contented little sigh he let out as she snuggled against him. Damn it all. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. They lay there in a silence that was neither awkward nor comfortable until she heard his breathing come deeper and more measured and she knew he had fallen asleep. She waited, counting the minutes in her mind before she was certain that he was sleeping soundly. Slowly she lifted her head from his chest and looked towards the rest of her chamber, seeing where her dagger had fallen onto the chair. She swallowed hard, it would be ever so easy to plunge it into his chest while he slept. He would never wake up and she would have kept her promise to her sister without having to see the betrayal in his eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to move further but his arms tightened around her and she snapped her eyes to him in irritation. She hesitated then as she looked at his sleeping face. His innocent, beautiful face. Damn it all she couldn't do it. The Gods forgive her she could not do it.

* * *

**A/N: **Well Aegon's safe but you can bet Melisandre won't be too happy when she makes her reappearance!

More soon!

:)


	38. Reunited

**A/N: **New chapter guys! A day earlier than planned since I had rather a productive weekend of writing. Hope you enjoy it!

**Guest:** Rest assured the dragons won't be starving, someone will be looking after them with Theon gone and it won't be long before our Targaryen's head back towards Winterfell.

**Guest:** I'm glad you're still enjoying this one as it has quite a way to go yet! After this I'm thinking of doing something incredibly AU which kicks off just after the Rebellion and has Jaime making some very different decisions which change pretty much the whole storyline of GoT. That won't be for a long while yet though, I've only vaguely outlined my plan and haven't written a single word of it yet!

Right, on with the chapter lovelies!

:)

* * *

**Reunited**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"You're back!" Roslin exclaimed, hurrying towards Edmure and flinging herself into his arms.

"I promised you I would be!" he almost chuckled at her as he held her tightly.

"Edmure!" Catelyn called, hurrying over to him, "Gods it's good to see you again!"

"It's good to see you Cat," he released Roslin and embraced his sister for a moment.

"Thank you so much for everything, for Sansa … the men …" she told him.

"Family comes first Cat, you know that," he smiled and tears welled in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said firmly, "I mean it … thank you"

He beamed back at her before his attention was caught by a young woman hurrying over, stopping various men and asking them something in an urgent tone. He couldn't quite make out her words until she came closer, looking extremely frustrated and close to tears the nearer she got. When he heard the name 'Theon' he knew who she must be and the smile fell from his face.

"What is it?" Roslin asked him in concern and Catelyn frowned slightly.

"Is that woman Adele Greyjoy?" he asked his sister and she nodded.

"Yes but … Theon," Catelyn paled, "Edmure what happened to Theon?"

"Theon!" Adele turned sharply at her words, "Do you know where he is?!"

"He …" Edmure swallowed hard, "he was seen being dragged to the ships"

"Dragged?" Catelyn repeated.

"It looked like he had been knocked out," he continued and Adele clapped her hand to her mouth.

"They took him …" Catelyn was wide eyed, "but that means they must have recognised him … how could they have recognised him? He has been here since he was a child!"

"His pin," Adele whispered, finding his voice, "the kraken pin … I asked him about it and he told me it was all he had from his sister, she gave it to him the day he was brought here"

"Oh Theon you fool," Catelyn almost moaned.

"He'll be alright won't he?! They won't hurt him if he's one of them will they?!" Adele demanded.

"Of course not," it was Roslin who assured her and Adele nodded gratefully, missing the uneasy glance that Catelyn and Edmure shared.

Theon would be alright he had to be. Her hand fluttered across her stomach which now had a hint of roundness to it. It was still not common knowledge that she was with child but she had felt it stir inside her and had been thrilled. Theon would have been too, she had been waiting for him to come home so that they could tell everyone together. She turned away then, muttering her thanks and farewells as she could not stand the pity in everyone's eyes when they looked at her. They didn't understand the way she did that Theon would do anything and everything to get back to her because he loved her and she loved him. He would come home for her and their baby. Perhaps it would take him weeks … months, but he would come back, she was sure of it. She made her way slowly back down the streets towards their home, her steps faltering as she came closer. Suddenly going back in that house alone seemed incredibly daunting, the thought of walking through that door and finding that house empty filled her with crushing loneliness. Another step and she burst into tears, they had been threatening to come and she had held them at bay but now it felt as though she couldn't stop. Hands gently came to her shoulders then to turn her around and for a second she thought Theon had come, that they had been wrong. In the next second she was crushed into her father's arms and she clung to him, her sobs near uncontrollable now as he rubbed his hands up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her.

"He'll come … home … won't he …?" she choked out.

"I'm sure he's doing everything to get back to you sweetheart," he soothed her.

"I don't … want … to … to … stay there without … him," she sobbed.

"You don't have to," he breathed, "you can come home with me for as long as you need to."

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Gods his head still pounded. Even now after days it still throbbed dully. He blinked slowly, Gods it was dark down here in the bowels of the ship. Dark and cold. At least they gave him some blankets and actually remembered to feed him. He had constantly asked them where they were going but they gave him no answer and after a few days he had given up asking. The only thing he knew for sure was that they knew he was Theon Greyjoy and they hadn't killed him. Because of that he imagined that his father was all too aware that raiding parties were attacking the northern coastlines. Damn it all his head hurt. He lay back down, trying to shift into a more comfortable position which was made difficult by the shackles around his wrist that had him pinned to the wall. Where did the bloody bastards think he could actually escape to when they were in the middle of the sea? He snorted then. Damn it all he was stupid for wearing that pin but then if he hadn't then likely that brute of a man would have killed him. At least this way he had a chance of getting home. He thought of Adele and wondered if she knew yet, if the others had returned to Winterfell. Surely they would have. What would she think? He didn't know if anyone had witnessed him being dragged away. If no one had seen would he just be presumed dead and his body washed out to sea? Gods he hoped not. She didn't need to think that, the upset would be too great for her and it might put their baby at risk. He squeezed his eyes tight then as hot tears stung at them. Now was not the time to think about his wife and unborn child as he could hear footsteps approaching his prison.

"Time to go Greyjoy," the man said gruffly, approaching him with a set of keys.

"Go where?" Theon asked, massaging his wrist as the shackles fell away.

"Home," the man told him and he swallowed hard as he was pulled onto his feet.

* * *

The sunlight was blinding as he was led up on deck and then encouraged down into one of the smaller boats. He said nothing as they rowed ashore, his mind spinning, trying to think of some way out of this. Somewhere in the back of his mind he vaguely recognised this place now that his eyes had adjusted to the light._ Pyke_, his memory told him. This had been the place where he had grown up, these were the beaches he and Asha had run up and down. The sea they had swam in. This had been his final view when the ship had set sail for the North. He remembered the weight of Lord Stark's hand on his shoulder as he stood on deck and watched his home disappear from view. Only … this wasn't his home anymore. Winterfell was crammed with a thousand shining memories whereas this place was scattered with a dozen hazy ones, none of them as beautiful. The only good thing he could remember about being here was his sister, the rest meant nothing; not when compared to the laughter he had shared with Robb and the others. Not when compared to holding Adele in his arms or remembering the smile on her face when she told him they were to be parents. He shook his head slightly. He couldn't think of her now. Not now when hands were under his arms half dragging him ashore. They loosened their grip when it became obvious that he wouldn't run and he heard voices shouting out for horses.

Theon stood still semi dazed until they were brought and he was shoved towards them. He vaguely heard the threats as he pulled himself up. As if he was stupid enough to try and run. He was on a fucking island, there was no way he was getting away from here. Not by himself. Not without help. He trotted on after a few of his captors obediently, hearing more of them behind him, surrounding him just in case he tried to make a bolt for it. The keep loomed up eventually with none of the beauty of Winterfell. It looked as cold as he remembered his father being and he frowned as he desperately searched his mind for a memory of his mother. Adele had asked him about her once and he had cried in frustration in the end when he couldn't remember a thing. Adele had held him then and he had sobbed in her arms, furious with himself for being so weak and ashamed that he could have forgotten. That day he realised he loved her but it took him weeks to confess it to her. Now as they rode under the gates he wished he had told her sooner. Why hadn't he told her sooner?

He slid down from the horse as the others had, shivering slightly before a sharp finger poked him in the back and made him walk forwards towards the doors of the keep. They were thrown open as they approached and the huge man who had dragged him off and clubbed him bowed low before the throne his father sat. Theon frowned slightly, he remembered his father, but would he remember him?

"My Lord … we have him," the large man said.

"Who?" his father asked, standing up, his gaze sweeping the rest of the party.

"Your son my Lord, Theon," he answered.

"Where?!" his father demanded and Theon felt the sharp poke in his back again.

"Here," he spoke up, his voice thankfully not coming out as shakily as he felt it would.

"Come here," his father beckoned and Theon approached, his footsteps echoing eerily around the silence of the hall.

When he came to a stop in front of his father he felt his hand come under his chin and lift it. He swallowed hard but met his gaze, seeing something like recognition in his eyes before his lips turned up into a cold smirk. Theon refused to look away until he moved his hand back and Theon retreated a few steps before lifting his chin high again.

"My son returned to me!" Balon declared and the Ironborn present roared their appreciation; "Now what hold does the North have on us?!"

"None!" the cry came up from many, deafening to Theon's ears.

"We will conquer our enemies, make those who made us kneel, kneel to us! We will rise once more as Kings!" he roared and Theon's eyes widened.

"Kings?" Theon said weakly and his father turned his stare back to him.

"We'll make those Stark's pay for what they did to you," he promised.

"But …" Theon started to protest.

"They murdered your brothers and they stole you away … but now you're home where you belong Theon, at my side as my heir," he said, the smirk back on his face.

"Winterfell is my home," Theon said defiantly.

"What?" Balon whispered and an angry silence fell around the hall.

"My life is there … my home … my … my wife," he managed to get out.

"Your wife?" Balon repeated incredulously.

"Yes my wife!" Theon said pleadingly, "My wife who is carrying my heir, I have to go back to her!"

"Back to your northern whore?" he snarled and Theon winced.

"Don't speak about her like that," Theon said darkly, his fists balling at his sides.

"Are you more wolf than kraken boy?!" Balon snarled.

"I'm a man," Theon snapped.

"Not yet you're not," Balon replied icily, "you," he summoned a guard; "my son seems to have forgotten his loyalties … perhaps a night in our cells will remind him of them …"

Theon made no protest as he was hauled roughly away. His father could keep him locked down there forever if he must but he would not give up on wanting to go back to Winterfell. He didn't understand, for Theon it wasn't about taking sides, he just wanted to be happy and back with Adele. Damn it all. Why had he not listened to her and let Jory go instead? It was too late for regrets now though he realised as he was practically thrown into one of the cells. He made no cry of protest nor of pain and he didn't even try and make for the door. The man who had brought him down snarled at him once before slamming the iron door shut.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne took a deep breath before following Shireen into the parlour where she was meeting for tea with her betrothed. The whole situation made her feel uneasy, Willas was technically old enough to be her father and Shireen was still a little girl at heart who still played with dolls. Willas stood, leaning on his cane for support when they entered, bowing as best he could.

"Your Graces," he greeted.

"My Lord," Erinne met his eyes as he straightened up; "I am merely here to chaperone the Princess, pay no mind to me"

"As you wish my Queen," he said and she smiled faintly before retreating to the corner with her needlework.

She heard Willas and Shireen exchanging greetings, his voice kind and gentle and hers soft and meek. Erinne shook her head slightly, likely this wasn't ideal for either of them but what choice did they have? Stannis had made his decision and now both of them had to live with the consequences. She found herself hoping that Shireen would be late to flower so the wedding would not happen right away. Her moon's blood may make her ready to bear children but it would not make her a woman. Shireen was a child herself, all of this was so wrong. Erinne wondered how her mother had ever allowed it but then she remembered Shireen's words. Innocent musings of a child or words of warning? She didn't know and she was afraid to ask.

"Do you play chess your Grace?" Willas was asking then.

"I know a little my Lord," Shireen nodded.

"Do you fancy a game?" he asked her and she nodded shyly again.

Erinne turned her eyes back to her needlework as they set out the pieces of the game. They spoke a little more as their game progressed and she just kept stitching, resisting the urge to look up and steal a glance at them. At least Willas would be kind to Shireen … gentle. Erinne had no doubt about that. He was a good man.

"And now there …" he said then and Erinne looked up, "I have your Queen," he said, his eyes meeting hers as he took the piece from the board, a knock sounding at the door as he did so.

"Enter," Erinne called out, snapping her eyes to the door.

"Forgive me my Queen, the Princess had been summoned for a dress fitting," Loras bowed to her.

"Must she go now?" Erinne questioned.

"It is for the coronation your Grace," he said and she sighed heavily.

"Very well, Shireen, Ser Loras will escort you," Erinne smiled towards her and she rose up.

"Thank you for a wonderful game," Willas smiled then and Shireen smiled shyly back at him.

"Thank you my Lord," she curtseyed before hurrying towards Loras.

When the door closed behind them Erinne stood, locking eyes with Willas for a moment before she crossed quickly to him, dropping down on the sofa beside him and clutching his face in her hands at once. He leant into her and their lips met, melting together for the first time in what felt like forever. She let herself go then, go back to the past, back to that tourney where they had snuck around in the shadows and stolen secret kisses. Back to the night before he competed in the joust where he promised he would win for her and then ask her father for her hand. That day she had looked on in horror as he rode against Oberyn Martell, had cried out in anguish as the horse had fallen on top of him. Still he had asked her father and he had said no. It mattered not that he was still heir to Highgarden, he demanded better than a cripple for her and she knew better than to protest. She felt his hands tangle in her hair then as their kiss deepened, his tongue moving so deftly with hers, the taste of him so familiar.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, pulling away; "I'm so sorry!"

"No," he kissed her again, "I'm sorry … I was such a fool thinking I could win … I should have secured your hand long before the joust"

"Now it's too late," she said sadly, stroking her hand down his face and he closed his eyes at her touch.

"I have thought of you every day," he breathed.

"And I have thought of you," she replied, pressing herself closer to him.

"Gods I never want to let you go Erinne," he growled, holding her tightly against him.

"You have to," she whispered, a tear escaping her.

"I know," he almost moaned.

"I never asked for any of this … you have to believe me," she met his eyes as she pulled away.

"I know," he held her gaze and another tear slid down her cheek; "tell me you're happy …"

"I can't," she whispered and he closed his eyes again, in despair this time.

"Tell me what I can do," he breathed, pressing their foreheads together.

"There is nothing you can do … he is the King and I am his wife, I must give him a son lest I end up like his last Queen," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" he asked her urgently.

"I do not know for sure but I suspect it was him … I don't think she fell Willas … I think he pushed her," she confessed.

"How do you know this?" he demanded.

"Something Shireen said … I cannot prove it, and even if I could …" she trailed off.

"He's the King," Willas said bitterly.

"Exactly," she nodded, "I don't want his child … I … I have taken moon tea but … but now I'm afraid to do it again in case he finds out … and if I am not soon with child I'm afraid of what he might do to me!"

"Stop it," he urged her, "don't say such things … we will fix this Erinne trust me … Loras is … Loras is working on a plan, he is determined to be rid of Stannis"

"But how long will that take?!" she asked him desperately.

"I don't know," he said mournfully.

"I can't stand it! Him touching me … him … coming to my bed …" she choked out and his hands balled into fists behind her back.

"I hate the thought of him there but it is how it must be for now," he said.

"If I am not soon with child then he will grow impatient … suspicious even," she said fearfully.

"Trust Loras," he implored, "and if it comes to it you will have to lie"

"Lie?" she repeated.

"Yes lie, tell him you're with child, at least then he may cease coming to your bed," he said.

"He will kill me," she whispered.

"Only if he finds out," he said firmly, meeting her eyes until she nodded her agreement.

"I'm scared," she told him.

"Loras will take care of you I promise … he will protect you," he swore to her and she nodded again.

"I love you," she whispered and he crushed his lips back to hers for a long moment.

"I love you too," he said fiercely when he pulled away; "and when this is done with not even the Gods will stop me making you mine."

* * *

_Sunspear_

* * *

Oberyn paced in agitation which was only heightened as Doran had refused to be anything other than his calm self as he carried on writing his papers. Damn it. Was he not in the least bit curious? Oberyn has been trying to convince his brother to write to the new King Stannis and demand the head of Gregor Clegane but Doran was being stubborn. Now was the perfect time in Oberyn's mind, now when Stannis was only just beginning his reign and when everything was still so unsettled. A few veiled threats about rebellions and Dorne being uncooperative may have just swayed the man to his way of thinking. Even without the threats Oberyn thought that Stannis might give them what they wanted, give them their justice for Elia. Oberyn had met the man at tourneys over the years and from what he remembered he was not the type to let rapists and murderers become part of his Kingsguard. Still Doran had refused to send any kind of letter though and Oberyn was just getting irritated when the messenger had come and announced that an unexpected guest was on the way to speak with them. Curiosity got the better of him then and his thoughts drifted to the approaching visitor, his pacing only getting more agitated as the minutes ticked by. Finally a knock sounded at the door and Doran called for the visitor to come in.

Oberyn's first thought was that he did not look much like a murderer. His second was why in the seven hells he had decided to come here of all places.

"Lord Tyrion Lannister," the messenger announced and the Imp bowed.

"Prince Doran, Prince Oberyn," he nodded to them in turn.

"You have travelled far my Lord," Doran commented.

"Far indeed," Oberyn agreed, "out of curiosity, are you still a Lord?"

"Honestly I have no idea, but by the end of all this I certainly intend to be," Tyrion smiled.

"Indeed," Oberyn said quietly, appraising the man in front of him and deciding he was impressed.

"What brings you to Dorne?" Doran asked then.

"A eunuch named Varys who spun some fabulously unbelievable tales for me which I cannot help but be taken in by," Tyrion answered.

"Go on," Doran urged him.

"You had a Targaryen nephew," he began, seeing Oberyn's fists ball at his sides; "long believed dead … I however have information that he is not in fact … dead"

"Impossible," Oberyn snarled.

"The boy was swapped before the sack of King's Landing and the deplorable acts that were carried out in the Red Keep," Tyrion explained.

"Acts so deplorable that those responsible were knighted?!" Oberyn raged.

"That was not my doing," Tyrion tried to soothe him.

"Explain everything Imp, I am losing my patience!" he snarled.

"Oberyn … peace …" Doran cautioned him as he glared daggers at Tyrion.

"The real Aegon was smuggled to Essos where he was raised by Jon Connington. However, since certain events have unfolded he has sailed back to Westeros. He is currently in the North and has gained the support of the Starks who have his aunt as their ward and, if rumour is to be believed, as their future Lady. I don't know if you know much of Ned Stark but he is no fool, he would not be easily hoodwinked or taken in by an imposter. He is a cautious man, a good man, if he has allied with Aegon then you can stake your life the boy is no imposter," Tyrion finished.

"You really believe this to be true?" Doran asked him, meeting his eyes.

"At first I thought Varys was being absurd, I dismissed it as lies but … I have to say he weaves quite a convincing tale and as I have already said, Ned Stark is no fool," he replied.

"No," Oberyn agreed, an uneasy look in his eye; "what do you want from us? You didn't come here just to tell us our nephew lives"

"Will you support his claim? Help him to the throne?" Tyrion asked.

"Will you?" Oberyn retorted.

"I intend to sail to the North and I intend to throw myself and my brother on his mercy … I can only hope Jaime is doing the best he can to endear himself," Tyrion replied.

"Kingslayer," Oberyn snorted, "you think you can earn him a pardon? Are you sure Aerys was the mad one?"

"I confess it will require rather a lot of persuasion," he admitted.

"And you want Dorne to sweeten the deal … promise our support in return for your brother's freedom?" Oberyn raised his brows, a mocking smile on his face.

"What else?" Tyrion raised his own brows; "Don't stand there and pretend you don't lust for it … for revenge against the Mountain. Do you want Aegon to have all the satisfaction of ripping him apart or do you want to be there to help him avenge his mother's death?"

* * *

**A/N: **A few twists thrown in there! Hope you enjoyed them!

More soon.

:)


	39. Desperation

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Hope you enjoy it!

**Guest: **Of course I'm writing more Robb fics, I love him far too much to abandon him and I'm so glad you've enjoyed my previous fics. The one I mentioned about Jaime will progress to involve Robb in a major way I assure you! :)

**Warning: **I don't usually warn about smut as this is an M rated fic but ... my smut bunnies kind of ran away with me in the chapter ...

Anyhoo ... onwards!

:)

* * *

**Desperation **

* * *

_Pinkmaiden_

* * *

"I'm hungry uncle Jaime," Tommen whined.

"I'm hungry too uncle Jaime," Myrcella added and he sighed heavily, turning and locking eyes with Jeyne.

"There's some stale bread," she said, "but only a chunk and nothing to go with it"

He sighed even more heavily then and ran his hands despairingly down his face before shaking his head and looking towards the distant town. The plan had been to skirt around it as they had done all the others, stick to the trees and the undergrowth and _stay out of sight. _That was the one rule he had but now Jaime knew he would have to break it. The children needed food, his own stomach was aching with hunger and he imagined Jeyne was starved as well although she made no complaint. There was only one thing for it, he would have to hide them and hide them well before venturing into Pinkmaiden and picking up as much as he could carry without drawing attention to himself.

"Follow me," he said to them then and the three did as he bid, following him deeper into the trees. There was a great oak in a small clearing that still had most of its leaves. Even Myrcella should be able to climb up there with a little help, he would breathe easier on his journey into town if they were off the ground and out of sight. He ushered Tommen up first and then Myrcella, making sure they didn't slip and fall. They only had one horse, which the children shared, and he would have to take it with him into the town. Jeyne looked at him then and he met her eyes for a moment.

"If I am not back by dawn …" he began.

"We will wait," she said and he sighed.

"Fine," he said impatiently, "but if I am not back by the time the sun is high"

"But …" she started.

"No buts," he whispered furiously, "you keep walking in the direction of the sunset do you hear me?"

"With you gone what would be the point?" she whispered back just as furiously; "if you don't come back I'm taking them north"

"Damn it Jeyne," he hissed, "they won't be safe in the North!"

"And you think they would be safe in the west without you?!" she countered him.

"Jeyne …" he started again.

"If you don't come back I'm taking them north," she repeated, "Lord Stark would never harm children and you know it!"

"And how in the seven hells would you get to the North?" he mocked her.

"I follow the river north to Riverrun," she raised her brows, "the Tully's are kin to the Stark's and I am their steward's daughter. They will look after me there"

"And what about them?!" he jabbed his finger up towards the tree.

"Did you not hear me? Lord Stark would never harm a child and I doubt his kin would either, they'd have a better chance there than anywhere else," she hissed.

"Damn you," he slapped his hands to his face.

"You know there is a simpler solution," she met his eyes.

"And that is?" he asked her in an exasperated tone.

"Come back," she said with a small smile and he couldn't help but smile back.

"Get up that tree," he snarled at her but she heard the underlying amusement in his voice and she turned to do as she was told.

Jaime turned to walk away when she disappeared up into the branches and leaves, snatching the horse's reins and tugging on them so he walked behind him. He kicked a stone as he emerged from the undergrowth and onto the road. Damn it that girl was infuriating and the most infuriating thing about her was that she was right. Not that he would ever admit that to her of course. The more he thought about it the more he realised just how right she was, if he was recognised and imprisoned, or even killed, then it would be foolish indeed for them to carry on to the Rock. Their best chance would be to go north, to follow the river to Riverrun and hope that the Tully's believed their story. Damn Jeyne Poole. He'd been so irritated when Varys insisted he take her as well, certain that she would only weaken them. In reality she had done the opposite, he didn't know how he would have coped with the children without her. If the Gods were kind to her she would make a wonderful mother one day. Not that he would ever tell her that of course.

He was under the town gates now, twitching his cloak closed further to disguise his armour. Thankfully his hair and face could do with a good wash and no one cast him a second glance as he made towards one of the inns. He tethered his horse and pushed open the door seeing that the inn was fit to burst. The drunken revellers paid him little or no attention as he skirted round them, heading towards the bar and raising his hand to catch the keep's attention.

"What can I do for you son?" the kindly old man asked him.

"I'm travelling towards the Saltpan's with my wife and children," he lied, "we need some supplies"

"How much?" the man asked him and Jaime set down their empty saddlebags on the bar.

"As much as you can fit in there, I have the coin," he said quietly and the man nodded.

"As you say, can I get you a drink while you wait?" the old man asked.

"No thank you," Jaime forced a smile, "I'll wait by the fire"

The old man tottered off towards the kitchens then and Jaime retreated to the fire, scanning the room every few moments until he realised that no one was paying him any mind. He looked back towards the kitchens then and saw through the open door that they were wrapping root vegetables and salted meats into thin cloths and stuffing them into the saddlebags. Jaime couldn't move his eyes away then as they slipped in some bread and hard cheese, his stomach growling in hunger. The children would eat well tonight, as would he and Jeyne and it was about time too. For the past week or more they had been living on stale bread and scraps of cheese and sometimes fish if Jaime actually managed to catch one. He wished he had thought to bring a bow and some arrows with him so he could actually hunt them some dinner but he hadn't even thought about it. The old man returned then, his steps slow as his frail frame struggled with the weight of the filled saddlebags and Jaime moved forward at once to take it from him.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, pressing three stags into his hand.

"Thank you," the old man smiled widely and Jaime returned it genuinely this time before turning to leave.

He made it out of the inn, breathing a small sigh of relief when he saw his horse was still tethered outside, and darted down the steps to haul the saddlebags over his back, strapping them securely. The last strap was pulled tightly and he moved to untie him, feeling a blade pressed into his back as he did so.

"Fancy seeing you here Kingslayer," a voice hissed and he swallowed hard.

"Would you not even look me in the eye?" he said mockingly.

"Why should I grant you the mercy you couldn't even show your King?" the man mocked him back.

Jaime snapped then, he moved so quickly that even he was surprised, kicking back hard and thankfully making a connection that made his assailant grunt in pain. He whirled around then, his sword coming from its sheath in a moment and clashing against his would-be killers as he recovered from the kick Jaime had given him. The man was skilled enough, Jaime vaguely recognised him and assumed he must have seen him at some tourney or another. He was nowhere near Jaime's level though and he barely had to work up a sweat to wrong foot him and hitch his leg behind his knees, forcing him to the floor. Jaime held the blade to his throat then and glanced around to make sure they were the only ones in sight. The street was deserted, no guards to be seen and the only sound coming from the drunken revellers in the inn.

"Big mistake," Jaime sneered, "trying to take me yourself … if you weren't so hungry for coin you could have shared your realisation with your friends in there. Perhaps the whole mob of you would have stood a slightly better chance … some of you might even have lived to tell the tale."

"Fuck you Kingslayer," the man spat at him.

"Another mistake," he growled, "my name," he pressed the blade further into his throat; "is Jaime," he said before slashing it across his neck.

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

The wind was blustery and there were no smiles in the courtyard as Mance Rayder was led out to the block set down in the middle. No wildlings were present but Val and she stood as still as a statue in her usual white, a beautiful contrast to the black crows around her. Her hair was pulled back into a braid but a few strands had come loose and were being whipped about her face. Aegon ached to walk over to her and push those strands aside, tuck them behind her ears before cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers. His feet stayed rooted to his spot on the other side of the courtyard though, his face betraying nothing as Mance came to a halt in front of the block. Ned Stark walked forwards then, Benjen and Robb flanking him, Robb carrying the wolf sheath in his arms that contained the Valyrian steel of Ice. He glanced slightly to his right then and saw Jon and Dany staring just as impassively as everyone else seemed to be. The silence of the courtyard was deafening but it only served to make it all the more impressive when Ned spoke.

"I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North sentence you to die, do you have any final words?" he said loudly and clearly.

"I've got what I came for," Mance said, many straining to hear his soft tone over the howling wind; "if I have to die for it then so be it"

"Kneel," Ned said then and Mance did as he was told, not a hint of a shake about him as he knelt down in the snow and bent his head down onto the block.

Ned turned then and Robb shifted the sheath so his father could pull Ice from it before he took a few steps back, Benjen doing the same. Ice was lifted high up then, the Valyrian steel glinting maliciously in the morning sunlight before it came slashing quickly through the air to slice all too easily through the deserter's neck. Mance's head fell into the snow and Bren came forward at once to wrap it in heavy cloth. Two other members of the Night's Watch stepped forward to lift his body and the three took his remains away to be burned. Val looked up then, her eyes lingering on the drops of blood that had stained the snow before she moved them to meet Aegon's. It hadn't just been a night, it had been a week of seemingly none stop fucking. Neither of them could get enough but at noon he was leaving, they all were. Even the free folk beyond the Wall were going, that could include her if she agreed to it and she imagined she would, it would be the only way she could be with her nephew. They had found a wildling woman to nurse him now and she had gone so far as to offer him a home with her. Val had thought to say no but then she had thought of the red woman and faltered. Her nephew would be safer with another and she had agreed to the offer, at least until she could be sure she was in no danger. The red woman hadn't appeared since that night weeks ago and Val was starting to wonder if she had imagined the whole thing in her grief over Dalla. She blinked then and saw Aegon's head tilt a fraction towards the stables. She inclined her own in response, knowing that he wanted her one more time before they left, it would be near impossible to have one another on the road south, not with so many eyes on them.

Everyone was moving away now, many to Castle Black to gather their remaining possessions and supplies, others were going out beyond the Wall to escort the free folk who wanted to settle on The Gift through. Some were moving out of the gates and into the camp outside them to pack everything up. No one paid any mind to Val as she walked towards the stables. Aegon would make his own excuses and follow her she knew that and she could feel her body responding to her illicit thoughts of him already. She had been with men before, thought herself to be in love with one of them but she had been a foolish girl then with foolish notions. Aegon made her feel things she had never dreamed of and when he was inside her she felt whole and wanted. Gods he made her feel wanted. She slipped behind the stables then where they would be completely shielded from view and leant back against the wall to wait for him, her mind racing with all the memories of the last week. Gods if he didn't get here soon she would have to start without him, the ache between her thighs was begging for relief. She had just loosened her breeches and slipped a hand down them when he rounded the corner, his eyes darkening with lust when he saw what she was doing.

"Perhaps you don't need me after all," he growled, placing his hands against the wall on either side of her head and staring down at her.

"I will have to rely on myself soon enough," she replied huskily and he felt himself harden uncomfortably as she moved her hand up and down against herself.

"Will you think of me?" he asked her, his voice longing.

"Who else?" she whispered back, her hand stilling.

"Don't stop," he breathed, moving his hands from the wall to tug her breeches down further so he could see her properly.

"Why?" she asked him, frowning slightly.

"Because," he breathed, unlacing his own breeches, "I want to think of you thinking of me … as I think of you," he finished, wrapping his own hand around his length.

She let her hand move again then, slowly coating two of her finger with her arousal as her eyes watched him slowly move his own hand along himself. Val circled her thumb around that spot that Aegon manipulated so well and couldn't help the sharp gasp that left her. Her stomach coiled in tight knots as she continued her motions and she slowly slid her two fingers inside herself. Aegon groaned as he saw her sliding them slowly in and out, his own hand increasing in pace as he continued to pleasure himself. She threw her head back then, her fingers moving more quickly as she moaned out, her thumb pressing more firmly against that perfect spot and she could feel her own body responding. He knew she was coming and it pushed him towards his own relief, spilling himself into his hand as she peaked, moaning his name as she let her fingers slip out of her and stilled her hand. Aegon grabbed her breeches again then, pulling them even further down before he took the hand she had used to pleasure herself and brought it to his mouth. He hardened again as he sucked her taste from her fingers and she moaned out as he let his length brush against her desire, rubbing himself against her arousal which had never been so peaked before.

She let her free hand come to his length and guided him inside her, letting him fill her completely. He let her fingers leave his mouth then and pulled one of her thighs up around his hip before he rocked up and into her. A cry left her mouth and he moved again, hard and deep, her foot slipping in the snow as he did so and they both almost growled in frustration. This positon was no good, he was too tall for her. His eyes moved to the old abandoned well then and he slipped regretfully from her warmth and practically dragged her to it. She turned then and bent herself over it, feeling his hands roam her bottom before gripping her hips and pushing into her from behind. This was more what she was used to beyond the Wall but Aegon made it feel so new and she rocked herself back into him as he pushed forwards, both of them groaning out in pleasure as they worked in a perfect rhythm with one another. He let one of his hands sneak round then, his fingers teasing at that spot and she tightened at once, stifling her cry of ultimate pleasure in the crook of her elbow. Aegon carried on though, moving faster inside her and continuing to tease at her until it got to the point that she thought she would die of pleasure. When she peaked again he could hold on no longer, spilling into her and collapsing down against her back, breathing hard as he let his lips come to her neck.

Eventually he moved, pulling out of her and straightening up, she did the same, meeting his gaze as she pulled her breeches back up. He licked his own fingers clean of her perfect taste then before he laced himself back up, straightening his doublet before moving his eyes back to hers. Neither of them said anything, both taking a step towards one another, his head bending down as hers tilted up. They kissed slowly and deeply and she could taste herself on his tongue. Instead of repulsing her it made her want him all over again but she knew there was no time. The sun above them was almost at noon and Aegon needed to go before he was missed. As though responding to her thoughts he pulled away, gazing into her eyes for a moment before pressing a kiss to her forehead. He turned and walked away then without a word and she said nothing to him. It was better that way, what could they possibly say anyway that would mean more than what they had just shared?

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Theon scratched the line down into the stone before sitting back on his heels and staring at it. Eight. He had been there eight days and he had marked every one of them. Eight days stuck in the prison, taken out once each day and brought before his father. Every day he would ask him where his home was and Theon always replied Winterfell. Perhaps if he said Pyke he would be released but then what? He had no friends here and he could not captain a ship by himself. He wouldn't have the first idea how to sail a boat back to northern shores, likely he would drown before he even got out of the harbour. No. He would remain stubborn, he would wait until his father was dead if that's what it took. He tried not to think about how long that would be, tried not to imagine how old his son or daughter would be. Would Adele wait? Would she wait or would he be assumed dead? Would her father find her another husband? Would she love another man, let another man be a father to their child? He shook his head. No. This would do no good, he couldn't think like this it would drive him mad. There was a noise behind him then and his heart sped up. He had already been taken before his father today and had his meal brought to him not long after. Why was someone back already? Slowly he straightened up and turned, his heart beating more normally when he saw her.

"Asha?" he breathed, his eyes wide.

"Theon," she replied evenly, her voice not betraying her elation at seeing her brother.

"What are you doing here? I didn't know you were here, I …" he babbled.

"I've been away from Pyke," she cut it, "but I'm back now … imagine my surprise when I heard you were too"

"It wasn't my choice," he said bitterly.

"I can see that," she said lightly.

"I want to go home," he said before he could stop himself, Gods he sounded like a child.

"This is your home," she said, meeting his eyes.

"No it isn't," he shook his head, taking a step closer to the bars; "I belong with my wife"

"Your wife?" she frowned.

"Father didn't tell you," he almost laughed, dragging his hand through his hair.

"No," she shook her head, her frown deepening.

"Every time I mentions her he feigns deafness," he shook his head, "please Asha … I need to get back to her, she will be worried and she's with child and I … I just want to go home"

"What do you think I can do Theon?" she whispered.

"I don't know," he shook his head, his eyes shining, "talk to him … bargain with him … I'll do anything Asha, I'll do anything but stay here!"

"You're his heir Theon, do you really think he will just let you go?" she shook her head.

"You," he said fiercely, gripping the bars of his cell, "you are the only good memory I have of this place … you … not him, not mother … I can't even remember her Asha. I just remember you … you're my sister please Asha … you're the only one that can help me!"

"Alright," she hissed, closing her hand over one of his; "but you need to be patient Theon. I cannot promise you anything but that I will do everything I can for you"

"That's all I want," he breathed gratefully, resting his head against her hand; "thank you."

* * *

Asha stole back down to the prison when darkness had fallen. Speaking with her father had gained her nothing as she knew it would but at least she could tell Theon that she had tried. Perhaps with some time and planning she could get him out of here another way but it would be a huge risk. If she put her faith in the wrong people then they could both end up dead. Her father wouldn't stop there either, he was already considering sending some of his men to infiltrate Winterfell and find Theon's wife. It was a reckless idea and deep down Asha knew her father knew it but he was so desperate to have his heir back that he would do anything. If he got hold of Theon's wife then she knew her little brother would do just about anything to stop her from being harmed. Asha knew the second part of the plan though and hearing it from her father's lips had made her want to cry. She had kept her expression stony though as he told her he would wait for Theon's wife to deliver a son before he took the babe to raise it the iron way. The girl would be given to his men then as spoils and Theon would be made to watch. By the end of it both of their heads would adorn spikes and Balon would have an heir that would bend to his will. Asha couldn't let it happen. She just couldn't.

He was sleeping when she came to a stop outside his cell. In the gloom she saw the scratches on the stone marking the eight days he had been imprisoned. Above it something else was carved and she squinted, trying to make it out. It was a heart, she concluded after a moment, and inside it he had written the name Adele. His wife, she assumed. Tears stung her eyes then and she was glad that no one could see that she possessed weakness inside her. For her plan to work she needed to be as strong as the iron she wielded. Her will was strengthened. Her heart set. She would get her little brother back to the North and back to his wife if it was the last thing she did in this world.

* * *

**A/N: **Back at Winterfell next chapter so there will be a lot going on, plus more from Dorne. Hope you enjoyed this one. More soon!

:)


	40. Settled

**A/N: **We're mostly at Winterfell this chapter after a spell at Dorne as there's plenty to sort out there!

Hope you all enjoy it, do let me know, I love your thoughts.

:)

* * *

**Settled**

* * *

_Sunspear_

* * *

Tyrion watched as the men tasked with sailing him safely to northern shores pulled on ropes and called things out to one another that he didn't understand. Cargo was being loaded on and he hoped there would be plenty of wine for the voyage, something told him he would not enjoy being at sea one bit. He tapped his toe impatiently and swept his hand across his brow. Gods he was hot and he was sweating buckets. He moved his hands to impatiently loosen the top of his doublet then but it did almost nothing to ease him. There was no wind to speak of and the sun was high in the sky, beating down its hot rays. They would be ready to leave soon and he still hadn't received answer from the Martell's. Prince Doran had promised to send him a messenger to let him know of his decision but none had materialised yet and Tyrion was starting to grow impatient. The Martell's were gracious enough hosts, he had had a plentiful supply of wine and women since he had arrived but he had not been called to meet with them again since that first time. Now he was wondering if this messenger would come at all or whether they would just ignore his request and breathe a sigh of relief when he boarded the ship and sailed out of sight. He was just resigning himself to that fate when someone cleared their throat behind him and he turned to see Oberyn standing above him.

"Prince Oberyn," he greeted in surprise, "I did not expect you"

"I came in person to tell you my brother's decision," he replied and Tyrion eyed him, unable to pick up on his tone.

"Don't leave me in suspense," Tyrion said, swallowing hard.

"You can tell our … _nephew,_" he stressed the word and Tyrion knew he was still unsure, "that he can expect our support. All we have ever wanted is justice for Elia and her children."

"I will tell him," Tyrion inclined his head.

"We will organise our men, our ships and follow you on to White Harbour, we will have to sail out wide to pass the Capitol without being sighted so our journey may be a long one," Oberyn told him.

"I'm sure his Grace won't mind waiting for his uncle's support," Tyrion said.

"The boy will have much to prove," he said warningly.

"I'm sure," Tyrion said lightly.

"Dorne does not relish war, but if this boy is true – and my brother is inclined to believe that he is – then we have no choice but to follow him," Oberyn said.

"I understand that," he inclined his head again.

"We're trusting you with this," Oberyn's eyes bored into his, "if you lead us into a trap I will not rest until your head adorns the Spear Tower"

"I assure you, all I know I have told you, the rest I am as blind to as you are," Tyrion promised.

"Good," he said shortly, "I certainly hope your word is true as I had reserved that spot up there for someone else entirely," he pointed up to the glinting spear in the distance and Tyrion knew he was imagining the head of Gregor Clegane adorning it.

"I hope you get the decoration you deserve," Tyrion said sincerely and for the first time the hostility lifted somewhat from Oberyn's eyes.

"You always were of a higher conscience than your family," he said.

"I suppose that's somewhat of a compliment," Tyrion smirked slightly and Oberyn allowed him a brief smile.

"Safe travels Tyrion … we will not be far behind you," he bowed shortly.

"I hope the wind favours you," Tyrion returned, bowing in return before turning away to take the steps down to the dock where his ship was waiting.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"There it is," Dany said from his left, "that's Winterfell"

"It's incredible," Aegon said honestly, glancing at Jon and seeing that he looked more than a little troubled. He could imagine what was unsettling his brother but he could say nothing in the company of others to soothe him as he was the only one who knew about Serra. Hopefully he could grab a moment with Jon before he came face to face with the girl. Aegon had a sneaking suspicion that Jon was planning on asking for her hand and he knew that it wasn't what he wanted, it was what he thought was the right thing to do. Somehow he needed to get through to him that it would be even more unfair to the girl to take her as his wife when he had no feelings for her. That would be far more cruel. He thought of his own betrothal then and swallowed hard. It was different for him, he was to be King and he could not just marry whomever he pleased on a whim. If he could he would be riding through the gates of Winterfell with a wife already at his side. The thought of Val made his heart pang uncomfortably. He had never voiced his feelings for her and she had never voiced her own. They hadn't even been able to say goodbye to one another when the armies left The Gift as it would have aroused suspicion.

No. He couldn't have the woman he loved, he was promised to Sansa Stark and soon he would be meeting with her. No doubt she would be lovely and he was already feeling guilty that he would no doubt be far less than she deserved after the hell she had already been through. Hearing about it from Lord Stark had made him feel incredibly uncomfortable but still he had gone to Val and had her over and over after he had heard it. That probably made him a bad person but he couldn't regret the time he had had with her, his only regret was that it had to end so soon. He looked at Jon again then and determined that if he could not be with someone he loved then his brother sure as hell would. One of them deserved true happiness. Lord Stark drew his attention then and he pressed his heels further into his horse to urge him forward to ride at his side.

"Yes my Lord?" he asked.

"Forgive me your Grace," the older man smiled, "I just need to ask that you will not mention your betrothal to Sansa … I did not want to write the news in a letter and I need time to speak with my wife and daughter"

"Of course," Aegon agreed at once, "I will say not one word until you formally announce it"

"Thank you," he said gratefully and Aegon thought he saw a glimmer of apprehension in his eyes as he turned his eyes back to Winterfell which was looming ever closer.

* * *

Bran, Rickon and Arya all flew at once towards their father, practically leaping on him as soon as he dismounted from his horse. Sansa approached more slowly, part of her still afraid that her father would be angry that she had defied him. Her fear melted as soon as she met his eyes though, her siblings noticing his line of sight and moving away to greet Robb, Jon and Dany. Ned crushed Sansa into his arms as soon as the others moved away from him, kissing the top of her head and willing himself not to cry as she clung to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and if possible he clutched her even closer.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told her fiercely, "you're home Sansa, that's all that matters now – tell me no one hurt you …"

"I am as I was," she promised him and he breathed a sigh of relief before pulling back to look at her properly, a smile spreading across his face. Her own mirrored his, her eyes shining with tears. Robb came forward then and she was crushed into another embrace. Ned watched them with a smile on his face, his attention caught by his other children exclaiming at Jon after a moment. He smiled as he heard their words, so proud of all of them and so happy they were all in one place again, even if it would not be forever.

"I'm so sorry I left," Jon said, locking his eyes with each of them in turn.

"You're back now!" Rickon almost sang at him and he chuckled slightly.

"Yes," Jon agreed.

"You know it doesn't matter Jon …" Arya started.

"You're still our brother," Bran added.

"Yes!" Rickon exclaimed and Jon wanted to cry.

"Your mother told you," Jon guessed and Bran nodded.

"But we don't care, we love you just the same," Arya promised him and he really did have to blink back tears.

"Jon," Catelyn stepped forward slightly apprehensively then.

"I'm so sorry for everything I said Lady Stark," he said, meeting her eyes, "I never meant any of it I swear, I was just upset!"

"I know," she nodded, "and you had every right to be, come here," she opened her arms then and he stepped into them, feeling them come around him and he breathed in her comforting scent, the scent of the only mother he had ever known.

Ned waited until Catelyn had released Jon before stepping forward to embrace her himself, savouring the moment for a while as he knew he would soon no doubt be facing her wrath when he told her about Sansa's new betrothal. He thought perhaps he ought to introduce her to Aegon first so she at least had some sort of good impression to latch onto. When he pulled away he met his eyes as he stood slightly back from the reuniting family with a smile on his face and a slight trace of sadness in his eyes. He inclined his head and Aegon came forwards, Catelyn noticed him at once and sank into a curtsey. Seeing her action made Bran, Rickon, Sansa and Arya drop into bows and curtseys at her side.

"Please," Aegon said, feeling a strange urge to blush, "there is no need … we're kin"

"This is Aegon Targaryen, our King," Ned introduced unnecessarily.

"Your Grace," Catelyn greeted warmly, inclining her head to him.

"Please my Lady, Aegon is fine," he stressed and she smiled at him.

"Perhaps we should all go inside," Ned suggested, relieved the introduction had gone smoothly; "there is much for us to discuss and I would see Edmure … I owe him my thanks," he finished, glancing towards Sansa then who smiled widely at him.

The Starks began to drift towards the keep then but Aegon hung back slightly, he didn't want to intrude any more than necessary. He kept his eyes on Sansa's retreated back, his head pounding. She was a beautiful girl he couldn't deny, even with tears falling down her face she looked pretty. Certainly the people would be smitten with her, a sweet girl like that. Perhaps he himself would grow to love her. Still, they would not be married until he took the throne and he had plenty of time while they were here at Winterfell to get to know her better. He noticed Jon had hung back as well, his eyes following the progress of a dark haired young woman as she walked towards the blacksmith's with a parcel in her hands.

"Is that her?" Aegon asked him lowly, looking around to make sure that none of the men milling around were paying any attention to them.

"That's Serra," Jon nodded, swallowing hard, his gaze drifting to her stomach despite himself. He could see no hint of roundness but that was hardly the point. He had still ruined her.

"Don't do anything stupid," Aegon warned him.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

"You don't have to marry her … especially if you don't love her. You might think it the honourable thing but it would not be doing her a kindness in the long run," Aegon told him.

"Perhaps," Jon muttered, watching as she handed over the parcel to the young man who had just downed his tools to greet her. They exchanged some words and smiles and Jon saw Serra pat him on the arm before she made to move away. The young man he didn't recognised watched her walk away as he took a bite out of the bread roll she had brought him. Before Aegon could say another word Jon had sped off towards her and he sighed heavily in exasperation as he watched him quickly catching up to her.

* * *

"Serra!" he caught up with her as she made to leave the gate and head back down towards her home.

"Jon!" she said in surprise, a blush rising slightly on her cheeks, "You're back"

"Yes," he swallowed hard, "and I'm sorry about what I did and about the way I left, I …"

"Jon it's fine," she cut him off.

"No it isn't," he shook his head, "but it isn't too late to make this right"

"What do you mean?" she frowned at him.

"I … I … I've come to ask for your hand …" he finally managed to get out and her eyes widened.

"There is no need Jon," she shook her head.

"There is every need … I should never have done what I did but I can make it right," he promised.

"Jon! Listen to me, there is no need!" she stressed, "You don't really want to marry me do you?"

"I …" he stuttered, this felt like a trap.

"It's fine," she met his eyes, "we made a mistake but we don't have to pay for it by being bound together in misery for the rest of our lives"

"Serra …" he started, not even sure what he was going to say. This conversation had not gone the way he thought it would at all.

"I'm betrothed Jon," she told him, "and he knows everything"

"Betrothed?" he repeated in a slightly dazed manner.

"To Gendry at the smith's," she confirmed.

"Wait," he shook his head, "when you say _everything_ …?"

"Well … perhaps not everything," she smiled slightly, "he knows I am not a maid but he does not know it was you who … well … you know …"

"Good," he said in relief, "I mean …"

"It's fine Jon," she soothed him.

"Is it really?" he asked her, meeting her eyes.

"He is a good man, he is sweet and kind and I truly think I will be happy with him for the rest of my days," she smiled at him.

"I'm glad," he said honestly, "truly … I'm happy for you Serra"

"Now you can stop worrying for my honour and find yourself a good woman who you can truly love and be happy with for the rest of your days," she said sincerely.

"I have no right to deserve you being this kind to me," he said seriously.

"We both made that mistake Jon … stop blaming yourself," she urged him.

"Thank you Serra … and … good luck with … well with everything," he smiled at her.

"Perhaps when this is less awkward we can be friends?" she suggested with a slight smile.

"I'd like that," he said honestly, hesitating for a moment before embracing her carefully.

"Take care of yourself Jon," she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek lightly before pulling away and continuing on her journey home.

* * *

Once Ned had thanked Edmure for what felt like the hundredth time his good-brother embraced him once more before excusing himself to go and check on his wife. Once he had gone Ned turned his attention to his three youngest children and dismissed them as nicely as he could. Arya and Bran clearly cottoned on to him wanting them out the way and coaxed Rickon out with promises that they would help him try and teach Shaggy Dog some new tricks. Robb and Dany had already disappeared and Ned did not let his mind think about where they had gone, he had heard more than enough on the journey back to Winterfell. He turned his attention to Catelyn and Sansa then, seeing the slightly suspicious look on his wife's face.

"There is something I have to tell you both," he said then, coming to sit opposite them.

"Is something wrong father?" Sansa asked him in concern.

"I hope not," he tried to smile reassuringly.

"Ned?" Catelyn coaxed and he could hear the underlying tone of warning.

"When I made my decision to support Aegon there were several terms agreed to," he began, "but when I received word that Sansa was safely returned my Lords asked me to put another to him"

"Please tell me you didn't," Catelyn almost snarled.

"What?" Sansa asked, looking between her parents in confusion.

"When Aegon takes the throne …" Ned took a deep breath, "he will also take you as his wife," he finished, keeping his eyes firmly on his daughter's.

"Me?" she gasped.

"Yes," he nodded, swallowing hard.

"I have to go back there?" she said, her eyes widening in horror.

"Sansa," he tried to soothe her, "he is a good man I swear to you … you will be safe this time"

"I thought Joffrey was a good man, I never thought he would hurt me," she returned, a look of almost betrayal in her deep blue eyes.

"Aegon is nothing like him," Ned promised her, "I swear to you … I would never have agreed to back him, to match him with you if I had any doubt"

"Alright," she finally whispered, dropping her gaze.

"Perhaps you should join the others," Catelyn suggested, forcing her tone to stay light, "there are things I need to discuss with your father."

Sansa did as she was told then, rising gracefully from her place on the sofa and walking towards the door. She seemed to hesitate when she reached it but before Ned could say anything she had composed herself and strode out. Ned took a deep breath before turning to face his wife, seeing the blazing fury in her eyes when he met them. It took everything not to cringe back in his seat. Instead he leaned forward and took her hand in his, his other hand coming to her cheek to encourage her to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry Cat," he breathed.

"Sending her back there Ned … what were you thinking?!" she demanded of him.

"The Lords insisted … I had to ask and Aegon agreed," he explained.

"Do you have any idea what she has been through to get back here and now you would send her away again as easily as snapping your fingers?!" she snatched her hand away and stood up.

"Of course I know!" he snapped back at her, "Do you think I relish the fact that she will be away from us?! But I want what's best for her Cat and I believe it could be him!"

"Could be?!" she repeated, "Is that good enough Ned?! Gods, the last time she was in the Capitol she was dragged from her horse and almost raped! And who was there to protect her?! Not her family, not her betrothed – Sandor Clegane for the love of the Gods! If it weren't for the Hound of all people our daughter would have been torn apart and … and …" she choked.

"Cat don't," he shook his head, "just don't," he came forward and pulled her into his arms despite her protests, holding her until she gave in and held him back.

"Was there really no other way?" she whispered.

"You know what the Lords are like," he said by way of explanation and she nodded against him.

"I can't bear the thought of her being hurt again Ned," she said, her voice pained.

"I know," he kissed the top of her head, "neither can I … but … Aegon is a good man Cat, I would never have offered him Sansa if I didn't believe he could protect her."

* * *

Dany smoothed her hair back as she hurried out of the doors of the keep. She knew she had kept Aegon waiting and she hoped that he and Jon had waited for her, she really wanted all three of them to do this together. Curse Robb and his persuasive hands and lips. She had only gone up to their chamber to change her dress and he had insisted on having her, not just once but twice. She couldn't deny how pleasantly satisfied she was but she was still irritated that he had kept her away for so long. If she had the will power she would punish him for this but she knew she didn't, as soon as she went back up there no doubt he would pounce on her again and she knew damn well that she had neither the strength nor the will to deny him.

"I'm sorry!" she called out, hurrying across the courtyard as she caught sight of Aegon and Jon loitering outside the kennels.

"What took you so long?" Jon asked her exasperatedly.

"I … uhm …" she stuttered.

"Perhaps we're best not knowing," Aegon put in then and she blushed slightly.

"Yes … well … anyway," she managed, "shall we?"

"Let's," he nodded, his eyes wide in expectation as Jon led the way through the part of the kennels where the dogs were housed through to where the dragons were waiting.

Jon was surprised himself when he saw them and the green one chirped out a greeting at once, at least three, if not four times as big as he had been before. It flapped his wings at Jon, growing louder until he stepped forwards to rub under his chin in an affectionate manner. He calmed then and Jon grinned, turning to look at Dany and Aegon, the latter of whom seemingly rooted to the spot. The creamy coloured dragon with the gold markings had wrapped himself around Dany's neck and had what Jon could only describe as a smug expression on his scaled face. That only left the largest, the black and red, standing on the table in the corner, his sharp eyes roving between the three of them. Aegon stepped forward carefully then, his eyes not leaving the beast in the corner. He flapped his wings a few times as he approached but Aegon kept on, reaching his hand slowly out to him. The dragon tilted his head as though he was considering him and Aegon kept his eyes on his, still approaching him slowly. The creature seemed to calm then, taking a sniff at Aegon before a happy chirp left his own mouth and Aegon smiled widely as he nudged his scaled head against his hand.

"Well," Dany smiled, "I think that solves the problem of who belongs to who …"

"Do they have names?" Aegon asked wonderingly as he continued to pet the black and red beast.

"I didn't want to name them with Jon gone … I'm glad I didn't now," she said.

"We are the three heads," Aegon stated; "we all share the blood of Rhaegar"

"Yes," Dany agreed.

"Rhaegal," he said, looking between them and the dragon and she and Jon nodded their agreement.

"Viserion," Dany said then, stroking the creamy dragon around her neck and the two men nodded.

Both Aegon and Dany looked to Jon then but he avoided their gaze as he considered the green dragon before him. Aegon had named his beast for the father they had both shared. Dany had named hers for her other lost brother. Jon bit his lip slightly and thought of his mother. The dragon chirped again and he shook his head. No. Lyanna Stark had been a wolf not a dragon. He spread his mind further, thinking hard, thinking of the blood that bound him and Aegon and Dany. It came to him then and he looked to his brother, seeing his eyes already on him. He wanted Aegon's thoughts before he named his dragon properly.

"Our sister …" he said softly and he saw the flash of pain cross Aegon's features.

"Rhaenys," Aegon nodded, swallowing hard and forcing himself not to think of how she had died.

"Rhaenar," Jon stated then, looking between Aegon and the dragon.

"That's lovely," Dany said quietly.

"It is," Aegon agreed, meeting Jon's eyes.

"We're agreed?" Jon checked.

"Yes," Aegon nodded, managing a smile.

"There we have it," Dany said softly.

"There we have it," Aegon agreed, "the three-headed dragon will conquer once more."

* * *

**A/N: **Not too much change with the dragon names there, I did hope my imagination would spring up something incredible but it failed me. Oh well. Hope you all enjoyed it anyway and I'll have another one up for you during the week.

:)


	41. Plots

**A/N: **New chapter for you all my lovely readers, I hope you all enjoy it - do let me know!

To the** Guest **who reviewed for chapter 38, yep, you can bet if Stannis found out heads would most definitely be adorning walls!

On with the chapter - enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Plots**

* * *

_Casterly Rock_

* * *

It was growing steadily darker and Tommen was just about falling asleep atop the horse. Jeyne had suggested that perhaps it was best they stop for the night but Jaime would hear none of it, he was certain that they were almost there. She followed on behind him slightly warily as he muttered under his breath words she couldn't quite make out. His pace quickened then and she almost told him to slow down as Tommen wobbled precariously on top of the horse. The words died in her mouth though as they came through the trees and she saw the gigantic expanse of what could only be Casterly Rock with what looked like thousands of windows shining in the darkness.

"We made it?" she whispered disbelievingly.

"We made it," Jaime turned to grin at her and she almost laughed in relief.

"Where are we uncle Jaime?" Myrcella asked.

"This is Casterly Rock," Jaime told her, the grin still on his face.

"Will mother be there?" Tommen asked and his face fell at once.

"No silly," Jeyne cut in, "she is far too busy for a trip away … but you will have lots of fun!"

He seemed placated by that and Jaime tugged on the reins of the horse to urge him onwards towards his childhood home. Jeyne was apprehensive as she followed on behind him. She could almost feel the tension rolling off him and she knew it was because Tommen had mentioned his sister. What she wanted to do was place her hand on his shoulder and say something comforting to him but she kept her hands by her sides and her mouth shut as they came ever closer to the Rock. Shouts rang out as they got nearer and it wasn't long before a group of guards with lions emblazoned across their chests came running towards them. Jeyne held her breath as Jaime quickly untied his cloak to show them his own armour underneath. He hadn't been back here in so long he wasn't sure if any of the guard would even recognise him.

"Ser Jaime?" the eldest of them frowned at him and the others lowered their weapons at once.

"Yes," Jaime nodded, "but I do believe it's my Lord now …"

"Of course my Lord," he stuttered bowing low, the others following suit.

"Gather the council," Jaime said, "I will settle my niece and nephew and their companion; I want them all in the council chambers in one hour"

"It will be done my Lord," they bowed once more before turning and hurrying back towards the gates which began rising as they shouted out the order.

* * *

Jeyne looked around her chamber which was about five times the size of the one she had had at home and even bigger than the one she had occupied in the Capitol. It was all so beautifully decorated and the fireplace was so large that she imagined she would be able to stand in it if it were not for the fire roaring in the grate. There was even an adjoining washroom with a bath in it large enough to fit four grown men in she imagined. This all felt like some kind of trick; spoiled women like her did not get things like this … at least not for nothing. She bit on her lip slightly, wondering what to do with herself, she was by no means ready to sleep. A knock sounded on the door then before she could make up her mind and she crossed to open it. It was a young girl, perhaps her own age or a little younger and she dropped into a curtsey.

"Forgive me for coming so late my Lady, but my Lord wanted me to introduce myself," she said.

"I'm sorry," Jeyne said, slightly bewildered, "perhaps you are looking for someone else … I am no Lady"

"Lady Jeyne Poole?" she frowned slightly.

"Just Jeyne, who are you?" Jeyne asked her.

"Tia my Lady," she smiled, "my Lord says I am to be your handmaiden"

"Oh," Jeyne said, unsure what else she could possibly say.

"Will you have need of me in the morning my Lady? Perhaps some breakfast and a bath?" Tia suggested.

"Yes," Jeyne said faintly, "yes … thank you"

"It is no problem my Lady, I will leave you to rest now," she curtseyed again.

"Tia," Jeyne said and she looked at her expectantly; "when you come to me tomorrow morning I would very much like it if you just called me Jeyne."

* * *

Jaime was in a foul mood as he stamped towards the council chambers. When he had set eyes on the Rock again he had felt elation, even more so when he saw the look of wonder on the faces of Jeyne and the children as they too gazed up at it. Then Tommen had mentioned Cersei and a thousand memories and regrets flooded through him. He had been a fool to think that he would just be able to forget her, there were even more memories here in these halls. Damn it all. He would be reminded of her every day when he walked the rock and looked into the innocent faces of Tommen and Myrcella. Damn it all. She would haunt him forever. He vaguely wondered what Stannis had done to her, if her head was atop a spike yet or if she was just languishing in the prison. He knew she would not be treated as a royal prisoner because Stannis was not that kind of man, he would relish stripping her down and making her little more than a commoner. Jaime shook his head then as he reached the council chambers, drawing himself up to his full height and fixing his features into something he hoped resembled authority before pushing open the door and striding in.

"My Lord," they all mumbled, chairs scraping back as they stood up to bow low to him.

"Sit," he said and they did as he bid although he himself remained standing.

"My Lord, is it true Stannis Baratheon has imprisoned the Queen?" the steward asked him.

"I have no idea," Jaime said, "but I do not think my sister is Queen anymore"

"What do you intend to do my Lord?" the Maester spoke up.

"I intend to recall the armies of Casterly Rock back here, we have no allies and if we tried to fight Stannis in open battle we would lose," he said.

"Then we will do nothing? Hole ourselves up in a siege?" the steward frowned.

"Do you have a better idea?" Jaime asked him sarcastically.

"There must be some still loyal to house Lannister," the Maester said, "we still have gold if nothing else, men can always be bought"

"Perhaps," Jaime conceded, "but for now I am recalling the men and I want our cellars full of supplies by the turn of the moon. It may be that the Capitol will not turn their attentions to us right away but we must be ready for when they do. I don't know who will seat the Iron Throne come winter but I will tell you this gentlemen, Casterly Rock will never fall to Stannis fucking Baratheon while there is breath still in my lungs!"

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Her handmaiden was putting the finishing touches to her hair when there was a pounding at the door. Erinne slid her eyes to Loras and nodded her head a fraction to him. At her action he went at once to open it. One of Shireen's attendants was on the other side and she looked frantic. Erinne rose to her feet at once and crossed to her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Forgive me your Grace, the Princess is refusing to rise from her bed and I did not want to trouble the King … I wondered if perhaps …" the woman trailed off.

"I will go to her," Erinne said at once, "Ser Loras," she added and he nodded his head before leading the way down the hallways towards Shireen's chamber.

Erinne dismissed Shireen's attendant and went into her chamber, dismissing all the others who were there. They went at once will low curtsey's and murmurings of 'your Grace' but she barely heard them, her eyes instead seeking out Shireen's. The girl looked almost scared and it made Erinne herself afraid for why the Princess was refusing to get out of her bed.

"Is something wrong Shireen?" she asked kindly as she approached her; "Whatever it is you can tell me and I promise I will say nothing to anyone else."

She kept eye contact with Shireen and slowly the girl began to pull back her bed covers. Erinne saw the blood on her nightdress and knew at once why she had not wanted to get out of bed. She swallowed hard and tried to think of the best thing to do. What she should do was reassure her that it was all normal and then go and tell Stannis so he could begin arranging her wedding. That was what she should do but instead she ushered Shireen out of bed and into the bath that her attendants had filled for her, taking her nightdress back to the bed and stripping all the sheets that had even a spot of blood on them. She balled them all up as Shireen bathed, her heart pounding as she wondered what to do with them. Her mind went back to her conversation with Willas and she remembered what he had said about Loras planning something. She made up her mind then and went to the door. Thankfully he was alone and she ushered him inside, pressing her finger to her lips so he wouldn't speak and glancing towards the screen Shireen was bathing behind.

"What is it?" he asked her, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"She has flowered," she returned just as quietly and his brows raised.

"Damn it all," he hissed.

"I will do all I can to keep this from Stannis but I need you to help me," she said.

"Whatever you need," he nodded.

"The sheets, her nightdress, you need to get rid of them and make sure no one sees," she told him.

"It will be done," he promised.

"Come to me when it is … I think you and I need to talk properly," she whispered.

"I'll return as quickly as I can," he agreed before turning his attention to the sheets.

Erinne left him to it and went behind the screen to help Shireen bathe, her mind once again racing with the best way to keep the girl quiet. She was heartened by the fact that Shireen had not let anyone else see, that must mean that she herself was frightened of the consequences of her bleeding.

"That must have been frightening for you," Erinne said kindly, washing the girl's hair.

"It hurt," Shireen said.

"It can be uncomfortable, I can bring you a remedy to ease the pain," she smiled.

"I will have to be married now won't I?" Shireen said, her eyes wide as she met Erinne's.

"Only you and I know you have flowered," Erinne said gently, "perhaps we can keep it between us until you are ready to be married?"

"Father would be angry if he found out," she whispered.

"There is no reason for him to find out, it can be our secret for now," Erinne said, meeting her eyes.

"You won't tell anyone?" Shireen's eyes were wide and innocent.

"I won't say a word, and neither will you," Erinne smiled.

"I won't say anything," Shireen agreed, "I don't want to get married yet."

* * *

Erinne dismissed her own attendants and handmaiden's when she returned to her chambers. Her nerves were shot to pieces but thankfully none of Shireen's attendants seemed suspicious. Stannis, thank the Gods, was in a meeting with his council and she knew he would be there all day, perhaps if it ran late he would not trouble himself to come to her chambers. She always dreaded the nights he came when she would have to lay there with her legs open and let him take his pleasure. He was unconcerned with her own and she felt nothing as he moved himself inside her, forcing her mind to think of other things. Of anything else. She poured herself a large glass of wine then and had drank half of it down before a knock came at the door. She called for her visitor to come in, knowing that it would be Loras. Sure enough it was and she poured him a glass as well, topping her own up at the same time before handing him his and seating herself on the sofa. He sat down next to her and raised his glass.

"To freedom," he said, raising a brow.

"Freedom," she smiled slightly wryly before clinking her glass to his.

"I got rid of the sheets, no one saw me," he said.

"You're certain?" she checked with him.

"Yes," he nodded, "and you? What did you say to the Princess?"

"She was as unwilling as I was for anyone to know," she said.

"Good," Loras took a long sip of wine, "that makes things easier"

"Yes," she agreed.

"This is all going to be difficult enough without my brother tied into the Baratheon house," he said.

"Yes," she repeated.

"I know," he said then, "about you and …"

"Don't," she shook her head, her eyes darting to the door.

"We're alone your Grace, I assure you," he soothed her.

"We're never alone," she whispered.

"Oh don't worry about Varys, I think you'll find his little birds sing the same tune as us," he smiled.

"He is … your man?" she frowned.

"Varys is no one's man … but he and I desire a similar outcome," he said.

"And that is?" she asked, her heart pounding uncomfortably hard.

"Stannis deposed," he stated and she swallowed hard.

"And who would replace him?" she asked.

"Aegon Targaryen," he replied.

"Stannis said he is just some imposter," she frowned again.

"Stannis would say that … but I have been convinced he is genuine," Loras told her.

"Why would you back him?" she asked suspiciously.

"My sister," he said.

"Margaery," she said, "I thought she was gone … run away?"

"To the North," he said, "because she is with child … I have told no one that, no one but you"

"And the North are backing Aegon …" she nodded in understanding.

"Varys tells me Aegon has promised Storm's End for Margaery and the babe, and another match for her," he explained.

"Then what will you do?" she asked.

"Make sure I'm on the right side when the dragon's come marching," he smiled.

"And me?" she asked him fearfully, "Shireen?"

"You will be safe, Willas will make his intentions clear … as for Shireen … she is a child, likely she will be taken as a ward somewhere," he said.

"When will he come? Stannis is already getting impatient that I am not with child," she said desperately.

"I don't know," he shook his head, "but you cannot allow him to get a child on you"

"I have taken moon tea," she confessed, "but I'm terrified what he will do if I don't provide an heir"

"Tell him you're with child," he said and she stared.

"But I'm not! And he will notice eventually!" she protested.

"As I said," Loras said calmly, "you cannot allow _him _to get a child on you," he stressed and her eyes widened in understanding.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Margaery could feel the baby moving insistently as she walked out in the gardens of Winterfell. The skies were clear for the first time in days and she was glad to be out of the keep and breathing in the fresh air again. The keep was fit to bursting at the moment what with the return of the armies and the addition of Aegon Targaryen and his men. Her head still spun at that but everyone was convinced he was genuine and she was in no position to argue with them. Lord Stark had promised her that Aegon would hand over Storm's End to her and her baby once the throne was won and she had warmly given him her thanks. She would also be married to someone of his choosing once her time of mourning was over and the baby was born. It would not be long now until the insistent little creature made their arrival, only a few weeks until it was due to make an appearance and Margaery was starting to feel fear seeping into her. Lady Stark had tried to be reassuring and Margaery had tried to let her words soothe her, knowing that the woman had had five children and knew all about child birth. She tried to tell herself that it couldn't be that bad if Lady Stark had suffered it five times. Her own mother had suffered it four times and lived to tell the tale. Margaery could only hope that she too suffered through it and managed to survive to hold her precious baby in her arms. Gods she was feeling morbid today. She sat herself down on one of the benches then where she could hear a small stream playing nearby and tried to let the sound soothe her. The baby jabbed her sharply in the ribs then and she inhaled in surprise, rubbing at the spot it had kicked.

"Are you alright my Lady?" a voice asked then and she looked up to meet the eyes of Jon Snow.

"The baby seems to enjoy torturing me," she said wryly and he smiled slightly.

"You cannot have long to go," he commented.

"Am I really that fat?" she asked him and he flushed.

"No … I mean I … I didn't mean … that," he stammered out and she felt slightly guilty for flustering him.

"I know you didn't," she said reassuringly, "why don't you sit down?"

"Thank you," he said, taking a seat next to her, still looking rather sheepish.

"You were right," she said after a moment, "I only have a few weeks left"

"Are you scared?" he asked despite himself.

"Yes," she nodded, "I'm terrified because I know that I could die and that if I do … well if I do my baby will have no one"

"I'm sorry about your husband," Jon said awkwardly then.

"It's alright," she smiled wryly, "I know what everyone thought of him … we had no great love but he was kind to me and I … I cared for him very much"

"I'm sorry," he said again, unsure what else to say.

"He would have been a good father," she nodded certainly.

"It's cruel … what happened to him …" he said quietly.

"Murdered by his own brother," she stated, turning to look him in the eye; "I have three brothers and I love them … even now when we are on opposing sides I could never bear to see any ill befall them. How could he do it Jon? How could Stannis murder his own brother for some ugly chair?"

"I don't know," Jon shook his head, "I consider myself to have four brothers and my one true brother is fighting for that ugly chair and I will fight with him for it"

"I cursed Stannis for it," she spat out then and he met her eyes again.

"I can't blame you for that," he whispered, "and when Aegon reaches the Capitol perhaps your curse will be fulfilled"

"I'm only sorry I won't be there to watch," she said bitterly.

"He will pay for what he's done in the next life," Jon assured her.

"Will you tell him Jon? Will you tell him that my baby … that Renly's child will claim Storm's End? Will you tell him that before he dies?" she asked him.

"I'll tell him," he nodded, "I swear to you that I will tell him."

* * *

_The Gift_

* * *

Val rolled over in her makeshift bed. She should be exhausted, her eyes should be heavy with sleep and she should be able to just close them and drift away. They had spent all day working on their construction again, being helped by the few hundred men that had stayed behind as volunteers to help them. Val knew why most of them had stayed, most of the free folk who had come down to The Gift were women. Thankfully none of the men had tried to force themselves on any of the company and Val thought it just as well as they would likely end up gelded. Free folk weren't like the women they usually encountered, free women knew how to wield a weapon just as well as a man. A few women had succumbed to the charms though and one of the men had even asked for the hand of a woman. She had accepted and they would be travelling to the Godswood in Moletown in a few days. Val tried not to feel jealousy, she knew she attracted the attention of the men but she rebuffed all of their advances and none of them even tried to charm her any more. Her heart was not free and neither was her body. She rolled over again then but it was no use, she couldn't sleep. She had barely been able to sleep since he had left her but tonight it was even worse. Tears stung her eyes than and she squeezed them tight shut before any of them could spill out.

She had never thought that her heart could ache like this, that she could feel so empty inside. Never had she needed a man, she had always prided herself on that. Even beyond the Wall when she had fancied herself to be in love she had still been able to function perfectly well without him when he went on his hunting trips. When she found out he had been fucking another it had angered her, infuriated her but it hadn't broken her heart. She had foolishly thought herself immune to such trifles and had vowed never to fall for a man again. Some vow. She had fallen for him, for the least obtainable man in the seven kingdoms. Fallen for a man who was betrothed to another, betrothed to a perfect, proper Lady from a perfect, proper house who would make him a perfect, proper Queen and deliver him perfect, proper babes. A sob left her then before she could supress it and she hated herself for being so weak without him, hated herself for wishing that he was here with her with his strong arms pressing her into his warm chest. Sleep would come for her if she could be in his arms but she knew she would never be in them again and the thought twisted like a knife. She kicked her furs away then and clambered up, crossing to pour herself some strong ale, perhaps enough of that would make her sleep. A breeze of wind whispered across her back then and she turned sharply, dread filling her when she looked into those eyes.

"You failed me," the red woman said.

"You lied to me," Val said, her voice coming out braver than she felt.

"I have a hundred men surrounding your little settlement and I will have them slit every single throat here if you do not explain yourself," she hissed.

"You said he was false … an imposter, he is true I know it," Val said.

"I should have known better than to trust a wildling whore," the red woman snarled, advancing on her and pulling out a dagger.

"Don't …" Val began, feeling blindly behind her for her own blade but before she could lay a hand on it the red woman had her in her grip, pulling down on her hair painfully and bringing the blade up to her throat.

"You had to do one simple thing," she whispered, pressing the blade closer.

"Please don't," Val choked, "please don't … I have his child inside me …"

"Really?" she paused in her movement, "Then perhaps you can be of use to me after all."

* * *

**A/N: **Awww, you didn't think she'd stay away forever did you?

More soon you lovely people, hope you enjoyed this one!

:)


	42. Deceit and Delivery

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Just a heads up, I'm away next week but my plan is to post Monday before I go and Friday when I get back as I'm unsure what the internet situation is going to be! Hopefully that's all good for you all.

Anyhoo, on with the chapter, hope you all enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Deceit and Delivery**

* * *

_White Harbour_

* * *

As predicted, Tyrion had hated every second of his sea voyage and was more than happy to find his feet on solid ground again. Somehow he had managed to refrain from drinking any wine during the last night on board so that his head could be clear for what would no doubt be a far from pleasant encounter with the Manderly's. He sighed heavily as he stamped along the docks and up the stone harbour steps. As he had imagined there was a guard waiting for him, some had direwolf sigils on their armour, other had the merman sigil of the Manderly's. The one he assumed was in charge stepped forward then and asked him gruffly to come with them. As if he could refuse? They surrounded him as they set off through the main streets, curious looks being thrown Tyrion's way as they moved further into the city and towards the keep that was looming up in front of them. He was very aware of the letters shoved in his doublet then and he could only hope that Wyman Manderly wouldn't declare them forgeries and have him thrown into the prison. When they walked through the gates and up to the keep Tyrion forced his steps to stay uniform and not falter. He didn't think he had ever been so nervous in his life, he hadn't even been this afraid when he had stood before the Martell's and they were hardly fond of house Lannister. Being in the North unnerved him but at least he would get to warm up here with the Manderly's and not face Eddard Stark right away. That was a conversation that could be saved for another day.

"Lord Manderly is awaiting you," a squire announced then and Tyrion bobbed his head shortly.

"Then I'd best not keep him waiting," he said brightly, trotting along after him.

"My Lord," the squire stopped at the door and gestured for him to go inside.

Tyrion did as he was told and his eyes were met by the colossal expanse of Wyman Manderly who was surrounded, quite predictably, by a spread of food and wine that would be enough to feed half the northern armies. Still, Tyrion bowed low to him and assumed the man would not return the gesture. He would be surprised if he could even get to his feet without aid.

"Lord Manderly," he said.

"Tyrion Lannister … I must say, this is a bold move," Wyman chuckled, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"I only hope it is not one I will regret," Tyrion said wryly.

"Please … have something to eat … some wine," Wyman stretched out to pour them both a glass.

"Thank you," Tyrion took his own and sipped a little.

"I would propose a toast but I am not sure what we would be drinking to …" he tailed off.

"My head still being on its shoulders is something I'm rather fond of," Tyrion smiled.

"Indeed …" Wyman considered him, "tell me … what is your reason for coming here, to the North?"

"I seek out Aegon Targaryen," he said honestly.

"Really?" his host raised his brows before sucking a mussel from its shell, "and why do you suppose he would want to see you … forgive me … I'm sure you are charming company but there is the slight drawback of your last name …"

"Yes," Tyrion agreed, "but I do believe I have a certain something that may interest him"

"Go on?" Wyman licked his fingers noisily.

"Dorne," he said simply and the fat man paused in what he was doing, his eyes widening in surprise.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

It was now or never.

Stannis was supposed to be dining in her chambers tonight but Erinne did not think she could stand another night of him in her bed, touching her, coming inside her. The thought repulsed her, especially now Willas was all she could think of. Especially now she knew Loras' plan and his intended deceit. She had deceitful duties of her own to perform first though and she took a deep breath before knocking sharply on the door, reminding herself over and over that it would be worth it in the end.

"Come," Stannis voice was cold and sharp as ever but she fixed a smile on her face as she entered.

"Forgive me your Grace," she curtseyed to him.

"What is it?" he snapped, "You're disturbing an important meeting"

"I wondered if I could speak with you privately for a moment? It's important," she persuaded.

"Leave us," he said to his council after considering her for a moment.

"Thank you," she said quietly as they left the room.

"Well?" he demanded as soon as the door closed behind them.

"It's wonderful," she forced her voice to be bright as she told him her lie; "I have found myself with child"

"You're certain?" he asked her, a tone of longing lacing his coldness now.

"Yes," she whispered, managing to meet his eyes.

"The Maester has confirmed it?" he pressed her.

"I have not been to the Maester," she swallowed, hoping her excuse would foil him, "you know how people talk, even Maester's … and you know it would do no good for anyone to know I am carrying your heir"

"Yes," he nodded distractedly, "yes you're right … of course we cannot trust anyone with this … not yet …"

"Not until the child stirs," she agreed.

"You will tell me, as soon as it does?" he questioned her urgently.

"Of course I will my love," she assured him.

"I knew marrying you was the right thing," he managed a smile for her then that didn't look forced.

"I only hope I will never disappoint you," she said, meeting his eyes again.

"Of course you won't," he tried to sound reassuring but all she could hear was the underlying threat.

"Will you still be dining in my chambers tonight?" she asked him.

"I don't see any need to," he said, "our duty is done, now you are with child I can use my time to get these kingdoms into some kind of order"

"Of course my love," she said meekly, bowing her head.

"I will speak with you tomorrow," he said and she nodded, hesitating slightly before kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Goodnight my love," she said as she made for the door.

"Goodnight," he returned evenly, "and Erinne," she paused by the door and looked back at him; "I am very, very pleased with you."

* * *

Erinne took a deep breath, shaking slightly as she got up from the bed and began to pace. Her stomach was in knots as she thought about how foolish and reckless she was being. If they were caught it would not just be her head on a spike. So many others would be up there alongside her and she shuddered at the thought. Perhaps she should just go out and tell Loras she had changed her mind, that she couldn't risk it. Perhaps Stannis would forgive her if she told him she was mistaken, she could have him back in her bed and not take the moon tea afterwards. That would be safer. Wouldn't it? Loras was certain Stannis would fall though and if she had his child inside her then she would be damned as well. She bit her lip. Damn it all. She moved a step towards the door then but the handle was turning and she froze. In the next instant Loras had opened it wide and ushered Willas inside. All her attendants had been dismissed and Loras had promised to stand guard in the solar. No one need know the Queen was not sleeping alone, and even if anyone did spy Willas coming or going from her chambers it could be easily explained away, obviously he would be visiting his brother. All her sudden apprehension left her then as Willas came slowly inside, the cane he used to aid him shaking slightly which told her that he was just as nervous as she was.

Loras dismissed himself then and closed the door but Erinne barely heard him as she stepped backwards towards the bed, Willas approaching her slowly, his eyes not leaving hers. This was madness. This was never how it was supposed to be. They were supposed to have given one another their honour on their wedding night. Their first night together was not supposed to be an illicit affair that she was beginning right under the nose of her husband – the King. She swallowed hard then and moved her hands to the ties of her robe. Willas came to a stop a few steps from her, watching her with darkened eyes as she slid the silk from her shoulders. His intense gaze made her shudder slightly in desire and she stepped closer to him, her hands finding the ties of his doublet. He breathed deeply under her touch and she raised her eyes to meet his as she slowly unthread his lacings.

"You will never know how much I wish this was the first time," she whispered to him.

"This is the first time with me," he breathed back, "the first time with a man who loves you"

"The first time with a man I love," she added, pulling his doublet down his shoulders.

He swallowed hard in anticipation then as she gently encouraged him down onto the bed, his cane clattering to the side as he shifted back slightly and tossed his doublet away. She knelt before him then and tugged on the laces of his shirt, the thin material falling easily open and baring his chest to her. Her hands wandered then and his breathing became increasingly ragged. She looked up to meet his eyes then and he moved himself further back onto the bed. Erinne moved with him, crawling astride him as he shrugged out of his shirt and leant back against the pillows. He could see how rapidly her chest rose and fell then as she came to straddle his lap, feeling how hard he was through the leather of his breeches. Instinctively she rocked her hips against him and he groaned out at her movement, a gasp leaving her as her motions sent thrills through her, desire she had never felt with anyone but him pooling between her thighs.

She bent her head to kiss him then and he moved his lips slowly with hers as their tongues came to tangle with one another's, heightening their desires even more. As they kissed he let his hands find the hem of her nightdress and tug it up. Once he pulled it up over her hips she regretfully broke their kiss and helped him pull it up and over her head. He tossed it aside and gazed up at her naked body above him, letting his hands slowly stroke along her thighs, revelling in the sigh of pleasure she let out at his motions. He let one hand rub up and down her hip, the other wandering up her stomach until he could cup one of her breasts. She let out a small moan then and her own hands clenched into the skin of his chest before letting them wander down his stomach to find the laces of his breeches. His breathing came sharply as her fingers found his uncovered length, his eyes finding hers again as she shifted her body, her soft touch guiding him into her warmth.

He had never felt anything quite as incredible as the feeling of her surrounding him and when she rocked her hips slowly he couldn't help but groan out his appreciation. How could anything feel this good? How was it possible to feel this much pleasure and not die? She rocked her hips again then and his hand on her hip tightened, encouraging her on with her motions which were making him feel things he had never thought possible. Her pace quickened as she continued on and he couldn't help but gaze in wonder at her beauty as she rocked harder against him, throwing her head back and moaning out in ecstasy, her breasts bouncing irresistibly as beads of perspiration began forming in the valley of them. Willas wanted nothing more than to let his tongue lap them up and so he pulled himself up, his hands on her hips still encouraging her perfect motion as he let his tongue glide up between her breasts, tasting the tang of her on his lips. She moaned out even more loudly, her fingernails clenching in his shoulders as he took one of her hardened buds in his mouth and began to graze and suck at it. The feel of his mouth at her breast combined with how good it felt to feel him pushing so deeply inside her had her stomach coiling in delicious knots.

Somehow she knew when those knots came undone she would feel something indescribably good and she fisted her hands in his hair, pressing his face further into her chest as she rocked even harder, feeling her body lose all control. He growled out against her breast then, tearing his mouth from her bud before placing kisses all across the swell of both her breasts, revelling in the taste of her. She was tightening even further around him now and he wasn't sure how that was even possible but he knew she was going to squeeze him to his own end. Almost as he thought that her head dropped to his shoulder and she stifled her almost scream of pleasure in his skin, moaning out in desperate satisfaction as she felt him finish inside her not a moment later. All either of them could do then was cling to one another as they came down from their blissful heights, their breathing ragged in one another's ear. Willas knew then that as reckless as it was he would come for her every night. Erinne knew in that moment that even if they were caught for this she would never regret it. Both of them knew as they stayed entwined and wrapped around one another that they had both never had a more perfect moment in their entire lives.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Margaery awoke with a gasp, her hands shoving away the sheets and furs at once, a scream leaving her when she saw the wetness tinged with blood beneath her. Pain stabbed through her stomach then as she cringed away from the stain, feeling her wet nightdress clinging to her thighs. The door burst open then and the relief she felt at seeing Lady Stark had tears spilling from her eyes in a moment. A moan of pain left her then as she felt agony ripping right through her. She heard a man shout then but she could barely make out the words as pain seemingly blinded her. Lady Stark responded and she thought she heard her asking for a Maester. She approached then and Margaery grabbed at her as she hushed her gently, soothingly rubbing her hands up and down her back.

"The blood!" Margaery gasped out fearfully then.

"It's alright," Catelyn soothed, "it is only a little … I promise you it is all normal"

"Oh Gods it hurts!" she moaned out, vaguely aware of another presence in the room.

"I know, I know," Catelyn hushed her, "but you will be alright I promise you, the Maester is on his way"

"I want my mother!" Margaery cried then, noticing the light in the room becoming brighter.

"I know you do child," Catelyn rocked her gently, "but I'm afraid you will have to make do with me, Dany … would you help me get her up, we need to strip the bed"

"Of course," Dany came forward to help ease her out of bed and Margaery realised that it must have been her lighting the candles and lanterns.

Margaery almost bent double in pain as they helped her up to her feet, crying out loudly and trying to breathe deeply as it coursed through her. Once she was safely in an armchair Catelyn and Dany quickly stripped the bed back, laying thick cotton sheets down over the mattress to protect it and piling the pillows high up onto the bed behind her so Margaery could prop herself up on them. The Maester entered then and Catelyn and Dany moved to help her back onto the bed, she tried to thank them but pain overtook her as the Maester came to examine her. She supposed if she was not in so much pain she would be more bothered about him looking at her so intimately. As it was she cared about nothing less as she gripped Catelyn's hand tightly as another pain shot through her body.

* * *

"What's going on here?" Jon asked sleepily as he and Aegon made their way down the hallway.

"Margaery is in labour," Robb told him.

"Oh," Jon still looked slightly confused.

"Cat and Dany are with her," Ned elaborated and he nodded slowly.

"Well … I am going to bed," Aegon said, raising his brows as a loud scream from Margaery floated out through the door.

"Gods," Robb muttered, looking vaguely nauseated.

"Just wait until it's your own wife in there," Ned told him darkly as Aegon sauntered off down the hall.

"Don't even …" Robb tailed off, shaking his head, feeling a whole new appreciation for his mother.

"It's worth it in the end … or so Cat tells me," Ned smiled slightly then and Jon smirked.

"Charming," Robb muttered.

"Do you think she's alright?" Jon looked troubled as a particularly loud cry of pain was heard.

"The Maester's with her, there's nothing we can do but wait," Ned replied.

"She's afraid of dying," Jon said before he could stop himself, "she's afraid her child will have no one if she dies … but … the baby would be looked after wouldn't it?"

"Of course it would," Ned assured him and he nodded.

"How long will it take?" Robb asked then.

"Your mother tells me you kept her in agony for almost a full day … every time I sat outside our chambers waiting it seemed like forever but I'm told Rickon came in only a few hours," Ned smiled slightly at the memory of the Maester coming out to get him.

"Gods," was all Robb managed to mutter then. He had been so excited at the thought that Dany may soon be with child that he had not even considered what she would have to go through to bring their baby into the word. He shuddered slightly as Margaery screamed out again, perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing if she didn't get pregnant just yet.

* * *

"Once more!" the Maester urged her and she gritted her teeth and pushed down with every single ounce of strength that she had left. It felt like torture, complete and utter burning agony but as soon as she felt the little body leave her she collapsed down against the pillows in sheer relief, tears spilling from her eyes as the baby began to cry loudly. "What …" she gasped, "what is it?"

"A boy Margaery!" Catelyn said happily, "A perfect little boy!"

"Oh," she breathed, "thank the Gods … is he alright?"

"Perfect," the Maester reiterated as he cleaned him up, "just perfect"

"Thank you," she choked on a sob, "thank you so much"

"Here you are my Lady," he beamed at her then, coming forward to shift her son into her arms.

"You look like your papa," she whispered then, pushing some of the blankets aside so she could better see his face; "he would be so proud of you … I am so proud of you," she finished, bending her head to press a firm kiss to his forehead as he squirmed slightly in her arms.

"I'll have the maids draw you a bath," Catelyn said then, tears springing up uncomfortably in her own eyes.

"Can I see him?" Dany came forward then and Margaery nodded, a wide smile on her face.

"Yes of course," she said.

"Oh Gods … he's so beautiful … what will you name him?" Dany asked her as Catelyn made for the door.

"Renly always wanted to name a boy for his father, I could not name him anything other than Steffon Baratheon," she stated then and Dany smiled at her.

"He's perfect Margaery, and that is such a fitting tribute for your husband," Dany said honestly.

"Thank you," Margaery pressed her lips together.

After a time Catelyn returned with a troop of maids and Dany sent her a smile from where she was sat on one of the armchairs. Margaery she could see was completely absorbed in her baby and the sight of it made her smile fondly, she remembered those times far too well. Each time a new addition was placed in her arms she would gaze at them for the longest time before someone would gently coax her to come and get cleaned up and rest. It was her turn to coax Margaery now and the girl started slightly when Catelyn placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Your bath is ready," she said gently.

"Thank you Lady Stark," Margaery said gratefully, "would you like to hold him Dany?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Dany stood and crossed to her at once, gently shifting the baby from her arms.

"There are some men loitering out there who may like a glimpse of him," Catelyn smiled.

"I'll go and show him off," Dany said, "and then I will come right back," she assured Margaery who nodded her thanks.

Dany walked carefully at the door, part of her intensely paranoid about dropping the tiny bundle. She held him tight with one arm before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Robb looked up first and seemed surprised to see the bundle in her arms. Ned noticed then and was on his feet at once, coming quietly to her side and peering into the blankets. He was a Baratheon alright.

"Perfect," he commented.

"That's what they all say," she smiled and he chuckled slightly.

"Gods he's tiny," Robb wondered from her other side.

"I'm not sure Margaery would agree with you," she retorted and he grimaced slightly.

"Has she named him?" Ned asked.

"Yes, Steffon, for Renly's father," Dany answered him.

"Aye," Ned nodded, a smile on his face, "that's a good strong name for a good strong Baratheon boy."

* * *

Robb couldn't resist snaking his arms around Dany's waist once she had discarded her robe on one of their chairs and she sighed contentedly as she leaned back against him. Gods she was tired but as exhausting as it had been aiding Margaery she felt elated. Remembering the look in Margaery's eyes as she had gazed down at her baby boy made her smile widely, as did Robb nuzzling her neck in an irresistible manner.

"You looked so wonderful with a baby in your arms," he whispered against her skin.

"You think it would suit me?" she teased him and he nipped at her neck.

"I do," he breathed, "I cannot wait for us to be blessed"

"Perhaps it will be sooner than you think," she said meaningfully and he paused in his ministrations.

"Are you telling me …?" he trailed off as she pulled away slightly and turned to face him.

"I'm telling you that you're going to be a father," she whispered, meeting his eyes which widened in surprise.

"You're with child …" he breathed wonderingly, his hands clasped lightly around her upper arms.

She nodded happily in response and her words finally registered with him. He let out a laugh then, part wonderment and part disbelief and she beamed up at him, her happiness practically shining from every pore of her. Robb bent his head then to capture her smiling lips in a slow and meaningful kiss, putting all his feelings into it, hoping his kiss would tell her what he was feeling because he didn't think he had the words to describe his elation. She kissed him back, her arms snaking up and around his neck, her fingers toying with one of his curls. She pulled back then and beamed up at him, seeing his eyes still shining in wonder as he smiled back down on her.

"How long have you known?" he asked after a moment.

"A few days," she replied, "I had thought to save it for your name day but … I couldn't keep it in"

"I love you so much," he said fiercely.

"I love you too," she returned and he pressed his lips to hers again for a moment.

"I can scarce believe it," he said, pushing her back and placing a hand lightly on her stomach.

"Believe it Robb," she said, placing her own hand over his, "you know how your mother always says that time flies …"

* * *

**A/N: **I couldn't resist any longer ... baby Stark is go! Hope you enjoyed, expect a chapter on Monday!

:)


	43. Closer

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter that I hope you will all enjoy!

Next update will be Friday most likely as my wifi situation during the week is going to be questionable at best!

:)

* * *

**Closer**

* * *

_Winterfell_

_He was swaying but his vision was clear in the darkness. He could smell the salty tang in his nostrils and he breathed it in deeply as he floor continued to rock beneath him. There were shouts coming from the dry land, he could see lanterns bobbing in the darkness. Some voices sounded desperate. Others sounded vicious and threatening. The view changed then, he was high above them as the shouts increased and the sounds of someone striding through the water reached his ears. He could see the figure pulled up onto the boat as another figure came to a halt on the edge of the beach. They turned then to face the vicious threats and he heard the scream of warning. It was too late, the ship was moving off and they were stood alone. They turned their back on the approaching hoard then and stood still with their arms outstretched. His view changed again and all he could see was the kraken pin glinting in the lapel and a hundred bows drawn and pointed. He tried to shout out in warning but the arrows were loosed. There was no scream of pain, no dying moans of agony, just blood soaking into the wet sand and trickling over the kraken pin. _

It was the cry of the baby that woke Bran, it was the cry of the baby that woke most people these days. He felt his mouth dry and leant over to take a gulp of water from the glass on his bedside and tried to make sense of what he had dreamed. His hands were shaking, he recognised that kraken pin. It was Theon's, the one thing he had from his home on the Iron Islands. Bran shuddered as he remembered the arrows and the blood. It was assumed Theon had been taken back to his father on Pyke. Would they really kill him if he sought to escape back to Winterfell? Bran didn't know, and he was afraid to ask. This dream scared him more than the others, it seemed even more real than any of the one's before and he was afraid. He knew he ought to say something but who would believe him? Arya might. But then … this wasn't like running out into the wolfswood through Summer's eyes. This was something else entirely because how could Summer be on Pyke? Summer was snoozing at the end of his bed. Whatever these dreams were they were not connected to his wolf and Bran was afraid of uttering a word about them in case people thought him mad. He was not mad, was he?

* * *

Two weeks he had been here and already he had changed her life completely and become the single most important thing she had ever had in her life. He was screaming now though as she tried to calm him. Sometimes he did this; it didn't matter whether she had fed him and made sure he was clean and dry, he would still just scream. She thought of the Baratheon house words then despite herself. _Ours is the fury. _Her little boy had fury in him alright and he seemed eager to express it. Most of the time he was a dream and she would spend hours of the day just wondering at him, but when he was like this she just longed for a simple minute on her own.

"Can I help?" Jon's voice came from the doorway and she turned and tried to smile at him as she continued rocking Steffon almost desperately.

"He's just having a Baratheon moment," Margaery sighed and Jon snorted in amusement.

"You look like you could use a Margaery moment," he said then and she laughed.

"You're not wrong there," she agreed.

"Here," he said, stepping forward, "why don't you let me try for a moment"

"He can't get any worse," she said in exasperation, shifting him carefully into Jon's arms.

"What's the matter little one?" he asked the baby in his arms softly, rocking him gently.

Margaery stared at him in amazement as Steffon began to calm in his arms, his screams subsiding and turning to soft bleats before he quietened completely. She watched as Jon tenderly lifted his hand to brush the tears from his cheeks and her heart felt like it melted a little bit. Steffon began to gurgle happily then and she saw the look of almost wonderment in Jon's eyes and it made her want to cry. Seeing him with her baby made it ever so easy to imagine Renly in his place and she swallowed hard as she thought about him. Her emotions had been so erratic since Steffon had been born but Lady Stark had assured her it was all normal and that she would settle down in time. The most important thing was that she could look after her baby and that was one thing Margaery was determined to do. She had refused a nurse for Steffon but it was on days like this when she had barely had an hours sleep and had been woken by shouting in the courtyard when she finally did drop off that made her wonder if perhaps she had made a mistake. With a sigh she dropped down onto the sofa and blinked sleepily up at Jon who was still rocking Steffon gently, his eyes lifting as he felt hers on him.

"I think he likes you," she commented.

"What's not to like?" he retorted and she snorted out a laugh.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, "you're a natural, whoever gets you as their husband will be lucky indeed"

"I don't know about that," he said, blushing slightly.

"You don't give yourself enough credit Jon," she smiled and he studiously avoided her gaze.

"He's dropped off … should I put him in his cradle?" he asked.

"He's better off in the middle of the bed, less likely to wake him that way," she replied.

"You know best," he smiled, crossing to the bed and easing the sleeping baby into the middle of it.

"What was going on out in the courtyard just before?" she asked him then.

"I have no idea, I think a visitor has arrived or something," he said, coming to sit next to her.

"Are you not needed?" she asked, a yawn taking over her.

"I'm sure they will call me if they need me," he said as her head nodded.

"Tell me about the Wall Jon," she said sleepily.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Everything," she replied and he smiled slightly and began to tell her all he had seen.

He only realised she had fallen asleep when her head nudged against his shoulder and he turned his head carefully to see her sleeping soundly against him. He was afraid to move then in case he woke her but it could not be the most comfortable position for her to be in. Slowly he shifted an arm around her shoulder and scooted to the edge of the sofa, slowly lowering her down until she was laying on one of the cushions. She stirred slightly then and he held his breath but thankfully she stayed sleeping. Steffon was still asleep as well and he pulled a blanket off the end of the bed and gently draped it over Margaery. He supposed he should leave them now and after watching her sleep for a few moments he hesitated slightly before bending down to lightly kiss her on the forehead before he turned to leave the room.

* * *

Ned had been out in the Godswood trying to get a moments peace when he had been summoned. There was some kind of _commotion _in the courtyard and his Grace seemed to be _rather agitated. _That had been an understatement, Aegon had been ready to pull his sword when Ned arrived to try and calm the situation. Just what Tyrion Lannister was doing at Winterfell he didn't know but thankfully with Catelyn and Dany's help he had managed to defuse the situation and convince Aegon that perhaps it was best if they spoke inside. They were in the largest of the council chambers now and not one person was looking at Tyrion with any other than indifference or outright disdain. The northern Lords seemed to have taken up an identical stance with their arms crossed across their chest on the furthest side of the room from him. Dany was at Aegon's side talking to him in hushed tones but his expression remained that of pure fury. Ned glanced to Catelyn then as she ushered the maids around with the wine and saw that her own expression was tense. He could practically feel his brain throbbing in his head then as he massaged his temples, trying to think of the best way to conduct this meeting without blood being shed. Perhaps he could confiscate all their swords?

Edmure slipped in then with his squire behind him and Ned offered him a small smile to which his good-brother raised his brows sceptically. Seems his gesture was not fooling anyone. He sighed heavily then as the maids traipsed out of the chamber, knowing that now they were gone someone would have to say something. Before he could though Sansa and Robb came through looking thoroughly confused.

"Lord Tyrion?!" Sansa said in surprise before she could stop herself.

"My Lady Sansa," he came forward and took her hand, "I'm delighted to see you safe and well," he said, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

"Thank you," she said, suddenly nervous as she noticed the tension in the room; "I'm intruding," she concluded then, "I should go …"

"No," to her surprise it was Aegon who had stopped her, "you're my betrothed, you have every right to be here"

"Thank you your Grace," she blushed then, her eyes finding the floor. That was the first time he had acknowledged their betrothal publically.

Aegon looked away from her then and considered the Imp. Tyrion Lannister. From what he had heard of Sansa's time in the Capitol she had been utterly shamed and humiliated by the Lannister's and he knew it was Tywin's double crossing that had brought down his family. Tywin was dead now though and likely his scheming daughter would be following him soon enough. No one seemed to know where the Kingslayer was but Aegon would find out, he would not rest until he found out. Tyrion though … Sansa's reaction to him had him second guessing himself. She had not cringed away from him as he had expected her to and she had almost sounded happy to see him. He frowned slightly and looked back towards his future wife.

"If you would excuse me a moment," he spoke up then, "I would have a private word with my intended. Sansa, would you walk with me?"

"Of course your Grace," she said, taking his arm as he came to her side.

"Aegon," he corrected her quietly as they left the room.

"What is it you wanted to ask me?" she questioned him as he led them into the smaller chamber next door.

"The Imp," he said, noticing how she frowned slightly at his words, "you seemed familiar with him"

"I did not mean to be!" she gasped at once, "I never meant to insult you!"

"You didn't," he soothed her at once, "I just wanted to know why"

"What do you mean?" she was frowning again.

"He is part of that family who kept you hostage and tormented you and yet you greet him as though you are pleased to see him," he had a frown on his own face now.

"Lord Tyrion was nothing like the Queen and _Joffrey,_" she almost spat the name and he nearly flinched; "he was kind to me, he stopped him killing Jeyne and he promised me he would keep her safe … they are not all bad Aegon," she finished softly, looking into his eyes, "there is no such thing as an all evil house … I thought there was but … I was foolish. You know what they say of house Clegane," she kept eye contact with him as he balled his hands into fists; "the Mountain is a monster but without his brother I would be dead," she whispered, "and without Lord Tyrion, Jeyne would be dead"

"And without Jaime I would be dead," Tyrion's voice came from the doorway then.

"Alright Lannister," Aegon turned round to face him, "I will hear you"

"I don't have much to say," he said, "I only ask one thing and that is mercy for myself and my brother"

"You want mercy for the Kingslayer?" Aegon snorted, "Why don't you go in there and ask my aunt for mercy for the Kingslayer?"

"Jaime had his reasons," Tyrion said, "I know he did … Aerys was mad your Grace, why don't you go in there and ask Ned Stark just how mad he was?"

"I don't need to ask him," Aegon said quietly and Sansa took a few steps forward so she was standing at his side.

"Where is Jeyne?" Sansa asked, "If you are here then where is she?"

"If all went to plan then she is safe with Jaime," Tyrion told her.

"Where?" Aegon snarled.

"I will tell you that when you promise the mercies I have asked for," he replied.

"And why would I give you that?" Aegon almost laughed.

"Because I can give you Dorne," he retorted, "and the key to the gates of the Capitol"

Aegon simply stared at him then and even Sansa looked disbelieving. Tyrion watched as they exchanged uneasy glances with one another before Aegon turned back to him and considered him for a long moment, his violet gaze piercing him almost uncomfortably. He had been unsure what to make of this lost Targaryen but since being in his presence he had concluded that he already had almost everything he needed to be King. His choice of bride was rather a clever one too, by allying with the Stark's he had already secured two kingdoms to his cause and now Tyrion would hand him Dorne. If the man was clever he would grant Tyrion's request and provided Jaime had reached Casterly Rock, he would soon have the Westerlands. The Vale would surely follow and Tyrion knew damn well that Highgarden would turn, Varys had assured him of that. The only potential snag was the Stormlands now that Stannis had married into house Swann.

"We will discuss this properly," Aegon finally said and Tyrion nodded his agreement. The Targaryen swept from the room then and Sansa cast an almost sympathetic look at Tyrion before she followed on after him. Tyrion sighed heavily before he made his way after them and back into the more crowded council chambers.

* * *

"We'll hear him out!" Aegon declared as soon as he walked back in, striding round at once to take his place at the head of the table.

Ned and Griff exchanged a look before moving to seat themselves, Ned on his left and Griff on his right. The others arranged themselves quickly and waited expectantly for Tyrion to hop up onto his own seat at the other end of the table. He was slightly reassured and grateful to see that Sansa had seated herself on his right and that Edmure Tully's squire was occupying the seat on his left. He was rather confident that neither one of them wanted to inflict bodily harm on him.

"So?" Aegon raised his brows expectantly, "You want mercy, impress me …"

"After Varys smuggled me out of the farce that was my murder trial he had precious little time to explain everything to me but I know enough and I have had word from him since … all coded of course. Anyway, after convincing me that you were genuine he sent me to Dorne where I was warmly received by Prince Doran … not so much Oberyn but … you can't win them all. They kept me waiting for my answer but I was given it the day I left to sail for White Harbour. They will sail there themselves once they are organised and pledge themselves to your cause. I have it here in writing if it please you," he said, fishing the letter signed and sealed by Prince Doran out of his doublet.

"It might," Aegon said and Tyrion grinned slightly.

"If you would be so kind," he passed it to Sansa who passed it down the table to Aegon.

"Of course … if you grant mercy to my brother then he could also bring the Westerlands to your side and with Highgarden ready to turn …" Tyrion started.

"What?!" Aegon snapped his head up from reading through the letter.

"Loras Tyrell," he almost grinned in satisfaction, "Stannis has made a grave mistake giving him a white cloak and posting him to his wife's Queensguard"

"Why?" it was Griff who asked.

"Renly," it was Ned who answered and Tyrion nodded to him.

"Margaery did say that Renly preferred her brother," Dany said quietly to Aegon then who nodded.

"Margaery?" Tyrion frowned slightly then.

"Something you didn't know?" Aegon smirked at him.

"She's here," Ned said, "and she birthed Renly's son not two weeks ago"

"By the Gods, he actually managed to bed her … I'm almost impressed," Tyrion raised his brows.

"So we have the heir to Storm's End," Aegon concluded.

"That may just solve the problem of the Stormlands," Tyrion nodded slightly.

"What about Stannis' Queen?" Robb asked then.

"A pawn of her father no more," Tyrion said, "Varys reliably informs me that she is taking moon tea in secret … he also tells me Willas Tyrell desires her as his wife once Stannis is put down. With him betrothed to Shireen it would be of even more benefit to them if it is done quickly"

"The Tyrell's are the key to the Capitol," Griff concluded.

"Yes," Tyrion confirmed.

Aegon put his head in his hands then and massaged his temples. There was so much to take in, so much deception and double crossing he could barely get his head around it. Was there even an ounce of loyalty left in the south? He knew that no one much liked Stannis but this was ridiculous, even his own Queen seemed to be plotting against him. He looked around the table then, into the faces of all these men and women that he had just assumed were loyal to him. That he had just assumed were on his side and would never betray them. He still had his confidence in them but hearing all that from Tyrion Lannister had definitely shaken him.

"You have your mercy," he said then, "but I want to hear from the Kingslayer himself before I make a decision on him"

"Can you at least promise that no harm will come to Tommen or Myrcella?" Tyrion asked.

"They …" he slid his eyes to Sansa for a moment, "will be safe"

"Thank you," Tyrion said gratefully.

"Send word to the Kingslayer," Aegon ordered him then, "I want to know that Jeyne Poole is safe and that he will not march against us when we move south"

"Jaime's no fool," Tyrion said, "believe me, he would rather you than Stannis."

* * *

Sansa could barely concentrate on eating her food, her stomach churning far too nervously to be able to eat anything of any vast amount. They had been in the council chambers almost all day thrashing out a plan of action and it had frightened Sansa to hear it all in such detail. She could imagine them all fighting; her father, her brothers, Aegon … Olyvar. Her eyes searched him out then despite herself and she felt that churning sense of unease in her stomach again. He had never said anything to her but she had seen the look in his eyes earlier in the day when Aegon had referred to her as his betrothed. There had yet to be an official announcement although all the family knew and she had seen the look of anguish cross his face for a moment. He had avoided her gaze for the rest of the day and she felt immense guilt. It occurred to her now that Olyvar had been cautiously courting her since the Twins and that perhaps in time he had hoped to ask for her hand. She imagined marrying him then despite herself and it made her heart flutter. She shook her head then, it did no good to have such thoughts because she was destined for another. Likely the only reason Olyvar made her feel the way he did was because she knew him better than Aegon. She would get to know Aegon though and then perhaps it would be him who made her feel like a beautiful Lady from the songs and poems.

Enough was enough. No one paid her any mind as she rose up from her place at the high table and swept away before anyone could protest or call her back. She thought she could feel eyes boring into her back but she ignored it, her pace quickening and only slowing again once she was out in the entrance hall. After a few deep breaths she slowly began to climb the stairs, wandering down the hallways towards her chambers. As she turned down the right hall a hand clasped around her wrist and she wheeled around in surprise, the scream dying on her lips when she saw who had hold of her.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"I'm fine," she said almost breathlessly.

"So you're to be Queen," he said, "congratulations"

"I don't care about being Queen," she shook her head.

"But you care about him?" Olyvar raised a brow.

"He seems a good man," she replied.

"That didn't exactly answer my question," he breathed, coming closer to her.

She should pull away, she should push him away and tell him no. He had no right to kiss her and she would be a fool to let him. Her heart was pounding though and she couldn't think straight. Surely a kiss wouldn't matter? She wasn't married yet after all … No. She couldn't. She placed her hands to his chest and moved her head so his lips landed on her cheek. She heard his sigh of regret and she bit down on her lip to stop herself from crying. He kissed her cheek again then, lightly and tenderly and her heart felt ever so constricted. How was it fair for the Gods to make them feel like this when they could never be together?

"I'm sorry," she whispered then, "you know I can't"

"I know," he whispered back, pressing one more kiss to her cheek before moving back.

"Lady Sansa?" a questioning voice sounded then and she snapped her eyes to the end of the hallway.

"Go," she hissed at Olyvar and he took off, rounding the opposite corner as Aegon appeared.

"I thought I'd missed you," Aegon smiled at her and she forced her own lips to turn upwards.

"I didn't realise you wanted to see me," she said.

"I wanted to thank you for your advice earlier … I was clouded by a name, too quick to judge perhaps but you made me see things clearly," he told her.

"I only spoke the truth," she said.

"You gave me good counsel Sansa," he met her eyes, "things are getting more serious now but … I want you to know that you can always be honest with me, I always want you to be honest with me even if you think I won't like it. If you think something is important then you must tell me, I swear to you that I will never chastise you for speaking your mind in my presence"

"So long as I don't embarrass you?" she guessed with a small smile.

"Sometimes a little embarrassment is good for a man … it reminds him that he is just that, no matter what his title," he smiled back.

"You're not like him," she whispered then and he knew she meant Joffrey.

"I know you can't be relishing the thought of going back to the Capitol," he said gently, "but just remember … when you return you will be my Queen not my prisoner, and I will never mistreat you the way he did. It may take us a little time to find our feet … for our feelings for one another to grow but … I will never hurt you and I will do everything in my power to make you happy"

"I will do everything I can to be a good wife and Queen," she promised in return.

"I don't doubt it," he smiled widely and she returned the gesture.

"Thank you," she said sincerely and he nodded to her before hesitantly kissing her forehead.

"Goodnight Sansa," he said warmly.

"Goodnight your … Aegon," she corrected herself with a smile that he returned before turning away.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed guys! More on Friday!

:)


	44. Trapped

**A/N: **Hey guys, I'm back earlier than planned but I assume you won't mind!

**Guest:** That is the plan but it will be rather slow progress. I'll get there though :)

Right, onwards with the chapter and I hope you all enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Trapped**

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Val tugged again on the shackle but it was no use, all she got was blood trickling down her wrist again and she bit her lip hard as tears threatened to spill from her. Where the red woman was she didn't know. Where she was she didn't know. She had no idea where the woman had taken her, only knowing that she had been on a boat at one point. The journey across the sea had made her sick and she had never felt so weak and helpless in her entire life. When she managed to sleep she dreamed of Aegon and she would wake up crying his name, shaking in fear and pleading with the Gods for them to send someone to her. Now she was here she wished she had kept her mouth shut about the child inside her. She wished she had just let that red woman slit her throat and kill them both because deep down inside her she knew that it was the babe the witch wanted, not her. She would just be kept here until the child came from her and that witch would do whatever it was she was planning. Gods. The only way out would be if Aegon took the throne before the child came. She didn't know where she was being held but if it was at the Capitol then surely he would find her, wouldn't he?

The tears were streaming down her cheeks then before she could stop them and she was sobbing out his name, pleading for him to come. Pleading for anyone to come. She couldn't let that witch have her baby. She would do something awful to it she knew it, she just knew that her baby would be killed and it was all her fault for being unable to keep her mouth shut. All her fault for letting Aegon have her in the first place. All her fault for letting him take her over and over again and being so wanton that she could never deny him. Damn it all. She sobbed even harder. This was all her fault but it was her innocent, unborn child who would suffer for it in the end.

"Help me!" she screamed out in sheer desperation; "Somebody please! Anybody please, help me! Please!"

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Stannis took his seat on the Iron Throne and smiled a grim smile of satisfaction as all those present seated themselves at his movement. He had been looking forward to today. He glanced down at Erinne and Shireen then who were sat in the front row, noting his wife's hands clasped across her stomach and he allowed another smile. He had it all now and the woman being led into the throne room had nothing. Davos looked up at him from his place as one of the judges and Stannis inclined his head slightly. The third judge was Mace Tyrell and Stannis could see from the look on Cersei Lannister's face that she knew she was doomed.

"You come here to face charges of treason against the rightful King, Stannis Baratheon and of committing treason and adultery with your own brother whilst married to King Robert Baratheon. Further you are accused of falsely naming your bastard children Baratheon's and seating your sons on the Iron Throne when they had no claim to it." Davos began. "Your previous plea of not guilty has been recorded and so your full trial is to be held here today. How do you plead?"

"Not. Guilty." She spat and Stannis snorted a little in amusement.

"I would hear the first witness," Mace Tyrell spoke up.

Cersei glance to the left to see who they had convinced to come in and testify against her and she frowned slightly when she saw a girl whose face she barely recognised. Had she been one of her attendants? Surely not. Surely she would have remembered if she had?

"Your name?" Davos asked.

"Lorenna my Lord," she curtseyed.

"Your profession?" he continued.

"Whore," she stated and Cersei realised who she was.

"And why would a whore have any dealings with a Queen?" Mace asked then.

"When Lord Tywin was murdered she had me and others from the brothel brought to her," she said.

"For what purpose?" Davos questioned.

"She offered is coin in exchange for our word that Lord Tyrion was not in the brothel the night of the murder," the girl told them and Stannis smirked slightly.

"And did you take it?" he asked.

"I did my Lord, she threatened our lives if we did not lie for her," Lorenna said.

"So Lord Tyrion, her brother, was in the brothel on the night Lord Tywin was murdered, therefore could not have been responsible; is that what you're saying?" Mace asked.

"Yes my Lord," she nodded vigorously, "he was there all night"

"Now why do you suppose the Queen would want to lie about such a thing? Go to all that trouble?" Mace addressed her and the court who began muttering furiously.

"I don't know my Lord," she said, "maybe it's that she had something to hide"

"That will be all," Davos said then and she curtseyed once more before the throne before being escorted out.

Cersei rolled her eyes as they paraded another twenty whores and lechers from the brothel before the court, each of them singing the same tune. Of course, it was just typical of them to imply to the court that she had committed further crimes that the ones she had been charged with. All this was doing was making her look even worse. Truth be told Cersei knew that she was doomed but she had been stubborn and insisted on this farce of a trial so she could stay alive longer and hopefully hear some news of Jaime and the children. She could only assume that Stannis did not have them as she was certain that he would have delighted in rubbing that in her face. As much as she despised Jaime for leaving her she was glad at least that he had their children safely away; that was the most important thing to her.

"The next witness!" Davos called.

"Your name?" Mace asked.

"Ser Osney Kettleblack," he said and Cersei glared at him. He merely smirked in response and she fought down the bile.

"Occupation?" he was asked then.

"Former Kingsguard," Osney replied.

Yes, _former _Kingsguard who had no doubt been promised a Lordship and lands of his own for spreading his poisonous tales. Cersei was no fool and she knew he would paint their encounter as something far more prolonged and illicit. She glanced towards the woman who had taken her place then and then up at Stannis. The girl was welcome to it. She would rather be dead than share Stannis' bed. She looked back to the girl then and saw the little glances she kept stealing at Willas Tyrell. He seemed to look at her almost as often then and Cersei smirked. It seemed Stannis was just as much of a fool as Robert had been and here she thought they had nothing in common. She wished the silly girl luck, she would need it.

"… and what other duties did the Queen ask you to perform?" Mace was asking.

"She liked me to take the pleasure of the King," he replied.

"Meaning?" Mace pressed.

"Meaning she took me into her bed," Osney told them.

"How many times?" Davos asked.

"I cannot be sure," he replied.

"More than once?" Mace inquired.

"Many more," Osney smirked. _Liar_, Cersei seethed.

"Did she ever mention any other lovers?" Davos asked.

"Not by name," he said.

"But she did mention them?" Davos urged him.

"She delighted in telling me that her children were not got on her by the King," he said.

"Then who?" Mace asked.

"She never said," Osney shook his head.

"Did the Queen ever mention her brother, Ser Jaime?" Davos asked.

"They were often in one another's company, and when he stood as Lord Tyrion's champion she had me incapacitate him so he could not compete. She was desperate for him not to be hurt … if I may, I think her concern went a little further than the usual bounds of sisterly affection," Osney said.

They went on but Cersei heard no more as the crowd whispered and muttered furiously. Her fate was sealed now as she knew it would be. She wished they would just hurry up and get on with it, death would be a welcome relief from the tedium. She almost laughed then but stopped herself as Stannis finally rose up from her perch. He stared right at her and she met his gaze unflinchingly, seeing his mouth twitch up in a slight smirk after a moment.

"Having heard the evidence I have little choice but to find you, Cersei Lannister of Casterly Rock, guilty of the charges against you, the sentence for which is death." Stannis said.

Her guards came to move her then and she stepped down obediently, her eyes finding her pretty, young replacement. She wondered if she would live to see her husband deposed or if her recklessness would see her head joining Cersei's on a spike. She locked eyes with her as she passed her.

"Watch yourself," she murmured, "it's a dangerous game … I should know …"

Her guards hurried her on then, away from their Queen but Cersei looked back at her and saw the look of shock mingled with that of gratitude on the young woman's face. At least she could go to her death with some comfort, she had warned her. Whether the girl would listen was another matter but Cersei hoped she would at least be able to get the satisfaction of seeing her husband taken down. The Gods knew she would enjoy Stannis' demise if she had the chance to see it. Her own would come first though but she predicted that it wouldn't be long before the last Baratheon brother joined her in the seven hells.

* * *

_Casterly Rock_

* * *

He was drunk. She could smell it on him as soon as she opened to door to her chambers.

"Why did I do it Jeyne?" he slurred at her, staggering slightly as she stepped aside to let him in.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked as he banged his knees against her side table, his hands shaking as he tried to pour more wine.

"Why did I let her poison me? Why won't she leave me alone?!" he demanded.

"Sit down," she said soothingly, taking the wine from him and pouring it herself as he collapsed down onto the sofa.

He put his head in his hands then and she used the opportunity to pour half of his wine back into the flagon and top his glass up with water. She poured herself a glass then, no doubt she would need it. Jaime had become increasingly erratic over the last weeks, as though a dark cloud had descended on him and he could not escape it no matter how quickly he ran. Today was the worst she had seen him and she knew it was likely because Cersei's trial was set for today. Everyone seemed certain that she would be found guilty and she sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her own wine before tentatively approaching Jaime. He looked up and took the glass she held out for him then and drained it down in one.

"You put water in that," he stated then, meeting her eyes.

"Do you blame me?" she raised her brows and to her surprise he began to laugh.

"The Gods damn it all Jeyne look at me!" he burst out, "I'm supposed to be the one looking after you and … oh Gods …"

"We all need someone sometimes," she said quietly, coming to sit next to him.

"You said I was a good man," he frowned at her then and she nodded slowly.

"I did," she agreed.

"I did it you know," he said, "I fucked my own sister and got those royal bastards on her. We made Joffrey the monster he was … and as if that wasn't enough I left her there to be taken by Stannis and have her head put on a spike above those walls she loved so fucking much … the mad bitch … damn it I loved her … do you still think I'm a good man?"

"You must have had a reason," she whispered.

"For what? Fucking her or leaving her?" he spat and she almost flinched.

"Both I suppose," she said quietly.

"I fucked her because I could … because I wanted her and she wanted me and she was the other half of me … we were only ever whole together that's what she always said," he told her in a rush, "and I left her … I left her because of what she did, because her poison would have destroyed us all in the end … Tyrion, the children … me … she had already taken our father"

"She did that?" her eyes widened and he met them.

"She did that," he confirmed and she swallowed hard, "so tell me Jeyne, what do you think of me now?"

"No less," she said, keeping eye contact with him and he snorted.

"Why?" he asked, utter confusion etched across his face.

"Because you've been good to me … without you, well without you I'd still be there," she said.

"And you'd rather be here?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied.

Before she had time to react his lips crashed against hers, his hands pushing her down and she tried to pull away, to push him away from her but he was so much stronger. She struggled against him as he pinned her against the sofa, finally managing to tear her lips from his, her hands shoving against his shoulders in desperation.

"Jaime!" she gasped out, "Jaime please stop it, stop it!"

He seemed to come to his senses then, pushing away from her as though she had burned him. Deep regret was clouding his eyes as he stared down on her, her expression unreadable as she stared up at him, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. What had he been thinking? He was supposed to protect her, not pounce on her and use her as so many others had done. He felt sick with himself, sick to the very core of his being. What kind of a monster was he? He had just tried to force himself on a young girl who had showed him nothing but kindness, a young girl he had promised would never have to do anything against her will again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered then, the words not sounding like nearly enough, "I'm so, so sorry Jeyne"

"It's okay," she said shakily, sitting herself up and coming tentatively closer to him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, shame pulsing through every vein in his body.

"It's okay," she told him again, carefully putting her arms around him.

"I never meant to hurt you Jeyne I'm sorry," he broke down then, sobbing against her neck. How did this happen? Why was it she was comforting him after what he had just done?

"It's okay Jaime I know," she soothed him, rubbing a hand up and down his back, the other smoothing through his hair as his tears spilled down her neck; "I know," she said again, "it's alright … you're a good man Jaime … you're a good man …"

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Theon stretched himself awake, jumping slightly when he saw Asha outside the bars of his cell. He mustered a smile for her then before standing up. Before he turned to face her he took his little chip of stone and marked another line on the wall. His eyes lingered on Adele's name then and he tried not to think about how big with child she would be by now. If his numbers were right in his head then she would be half way through her pregnancy. Gods he hoped everything was going as it should, that the stress of him being gone hadn't harmed their baby. Or worse, caused her to miscarry. He shook his head then and turned to his sister.

"Two days," she said quietly.

"What?" he whispered, coming closer to the bars of his cell.

"I'm getting you out in two days. I'll wait until it's dark and come for you," she breathed.

"What about the guards?" he questioned her.

"Leave them to me," she said, "trust me Theon, just be ready"

"I will," he promised.

"You make sure you tell that babe of yours about their aunt Asha," she smiled slightly then.

"I will," he met her eyes, "Gods I will even name it after you if it's a girl"

"You best hope your wife agrees," she joked then.

"I'll persuade her somehow," Theon grinned.

"I don't want to know," she said, turning away and heading for the steps leaving a grinning Theon in her wake.

She took a deep breath when she reached the top and forced the smile from her face. Theon seemed convinced everything would be alright and that was the main thing. He didn't need to know how many things could potentially go wrong. She had managed to fix the guard on shift and that was the main thing, Jerod and Klyn would succumb to her charms easily enough. Theon didn't need to know about that though. Theon didn't need to know about any of it. So long as he made it down to the beach he would be alright, her men would be waiting, her loyal men who would do anything for her. The one's she couldn't trust had been moved elsewhere over the last weeks, she had had to do it slowly as to not arouse suspicion and it had frustrated Theon. He seemed happy enough today though and she smiled again. It would be worth it all to see Theon on that ship and sailing away. She wasn't sure what would happen to her after that but at least if she got him safely away there might actually be chance of her family regaining some kind of honour one day. Her father spoke of being a King but he had no idea how to be one. He couldn't even see the strength in his own son. He saw Theon's love for his wife and unborn child as weakness whereas Asha could only see it as an overwhelming strength. Yes. Getting Theon out of here was the best decision. Now she just had to pray it would all run as smoothly in reality as it did in her mind.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

_The fire roared as loudly as the sea did, the waves crashing repeatedly against the rock. They were high above that though, the flames rising higher and higher as the woman chanted words he could not understand. Others around her took up her call as she lifted her arms up the heavens and cried out loudly, the ruby at her throat glowing red as she did so. He could sense fear then and he snapped his head away from the chanting hoards and the flames to see her. A stranger. He had never met her before but he knew he had seen her somewhere. Her hands and feet were bound and her mouth was gagged. If she weren't he imagined she would be screaming. Her eyes were screaming as her pale, blond hair snarled around in the ferocious wind. Tears were streaming from her eyes and she was struggling against the men holding her even though she had no hope of escape. He turned back to the flames then and were he able to scream he would have as another man brought forth a screaming babe. The cries made him want to rush to him and so he did but he could not lay a hand on him nor say any comforting words. _

_The woman on the other side of the courtyard was screaming now from behind her gag, he could hear the muffled noises as she struggled even harder against the men who held her. He wanted to tell them to let her go, to let her have her baby back because he somehow knew it was hers. The scent of the child reached him then and familiarity hit him. Now he knew the babe he wanted nothing more than to save it but no one knew he was there. No one was protesting but the bound and gagged woman whose heart he could almost feel breaking as the man handed the child over to the red woman. She said more words then, words that meant nothing to him as he looked again towards the distraught mother. The babe was still screaming and she was still fighting to reach it but it was far too late. He wanted to gouge his own eyes out then when that little bundle went tumbling into the flames …_

"Bran!"

"Bran!"

"Bran wake up!"

His eyes flew open then and he almost gagged. Robb moved his hands away from his face and an empty bowl was shoved under his nose as he rolled over and retched. He could feel his mother's soothing hand on his back then, rubbing up and down as he emptied his dinner into the bowl. As he calmed it all came flooding back to him and he began to shake as he knelt there on the stone floor of the hall. It only seemed a moment ago that he had been laughing heartily with his siblings at dinner and yet between that time and this he had seen the most disturbing thing yet. It was no good. He couldn't ignore it this time, not with that image etched forever in his mind. They may think him mad but he would make them believe him somehow. He could vaguely hear their voices asking him if he was alright, asking him if he needed the Maester as he pushed himself up, his eyes searching the hall.

"You!" he pointed when he saw him; "They have her, they have that woman you were with, the one with the fair hair!"

"What?" Aegon whispered coming closer, how could he possibly know about Val?

"I saw you with her before, in a dream … and now I've seen her again only they have her!" he gabbled.

"Who has her? What is this?" his father asked him almost desperately.

"They're not normal dreams! I'm telling you I've seen it! They have her!" he shouted.

"Who has her?!" Aegon demanded, dropping to his knees and grabbing Bran's shoulders tight.

"A woman in red," he said and Aegon saw the grimace on Ned's face.

"Where?" Aegon asked.

"I don't know," Bran shook his head.

"Why?!" he demanded then.

"Because they want her baby," Bran said, meeting his eyes which widened in horror, "they want your baby and if you don't find her then your baby will burn."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you all enjoyed that! More soon!

:)


	45. The Iron Price

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Just a quick one for those of you hoping for a Robb/Aegon showdown, it's coming next chapter I promise!

From the title you can probably guess where most of the focus is going to be in this one - I can only apologize in advance for this chapter! Please don't hate me ...

Anyway, thoughts would be awesome as ever.

More soon!

:)

* * *

**The Iron Price**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Who is she?" Sansa asked quietly as she and Aegon sat outside Bran's room waiting for the Maester to finish tending to him.

"Her name is Val," he said, refusing to meet her gaze, "she's a wildling, she … I …"

"You met her at the Wall," Sansa assumed.

"Yes," he swallowed hard.

"Do you love her?" she asked and he said nothing; "I won't be angry," she whispered.

"Yes I do," he confessed.

"Do you really think what Bran said is true? That they have her? That's she's …" she tailed off.

"I don't know but I'm scared," he said honestly.

"If they want the baby there are still many months for you to find her," she tried to reassure him.

"I know," he nodded, his jaw tense.

She didn't know what else to say then so she settled for hesitantly reaching out her hand and taking his. He was surprised at her gesture but oddly comforted and so he laced his fingers with hers and squeezed lightly, leaning his head back against the wall and sighing out in frustration. Still Sansa said nothing. She supposed she had every right to be angry with him, he had clearly bed another even though he was betrothed to her but she could not find it in her to hate him for it. He loved this other woman, she wasn't just some whore. Was it not true that she too had feelings for another? For a man who wasn't Aegon. Not that she would ever act on it of course but if she were in Aegon's shoes, if she could be with another and not be shamed and shunned for it then would she? She thought of Olyvar then and how he made her heart beat too fast and she knew that if she could she would. She wasn't sure how that made her felt only that she wanted to keep Aegon's hand tight in hers.

The door to Bran's chamber opened then and her father stepped out. She saw him look in faint surprise and perhaps a little irritation at her and Aegon's entwined hands and she imagined that her betrothed had noticed as well as he swiftly let go and stood up to face her father. Sansa wanted to cringe at the look in his eyes and she tried to capture them with her own, to make him see, to convey to him without words that she didn't feel upset or betrayed. He glanced at her than and she wondered if he had got the message as his hard stare softened a little.

"How's Bran?" she asked.

"What did the Maester say?" Aegon added before her father could speak.

"He's fine," Ned began, "the Maester thinks it could have been a green dream, that he has foresight"

"Are you serious?" Aegon breathed.

"Bran has been having these dreams for a while but has kept them to himself," Ned began, "he dreamt of you, Jon and Dany finding one another and of the dragons while he was at Flint's Finger with no way of knowing any of that information. He dreamt of you and that wildling woman," his tone hardened then and Aegon dropped his gaze; "he dreamt of Theon on Pyke and now this … he's seen Val at Dragonstone with a babe and that woman … Melisandre …"

"How do you know she's at Dragonstone?" Aegon asked him almost desperately.

"Bran described what he saw and he described it all perfectly … Bran has never been to Dragonstone and he has never seen Val nor Melisandre but he described it all perfectly," Ned grimaced.

"Then she's there … we need to go … I need to go," Aegon made to move away but Ned grabbed him back.

"Don't be ridiculous, the armies are gathering, the ships will arrive from Dorne any day and then we will march. You cannot take yourself to Dragonstone and more than likely be killed! See sense Aegon, you're the King and you need to act like it!" Ned scolded him.

"You think I'm going to leave her there and let her give birth to my child alone and in agony only to see it killed before her?!" Aegon demanded.

"Aegon …" Ned tried to soothe him but he was shaking his head.

"You can't go," Jon's voice cut through the tension then; "Lord Stark is right … you're needed here and you would be too easily recognised. You can't go Aegon, but I can."

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Night had fallen when she went out to the prison, the vial slipped down her cleavage. It shouldn't be too difficult, Jerod and Klyn were always more than happy to share a drink with her. She had been known to share more than just a drink with Jerod on occasion, she didn't feel guilty about it; his hands were far more skilful than some on Pyke, his tongue as well. When she entered the prison she was surprised to find Jerod alone, she didn't let it show though, setting down the flagon of strong ale and raising her brows mischievously.

"Where's Klyn?" she asked Jerod.

"Out for a piss," he answered.

"Think you could persuade him to stay out a little longer?" she raised her brows.

"Want me all to yourself?" he grinned.

"There is an itch you could scratch," she said and his eyes roamed over her for a moment.

"Pour him some of that ale and I'm sure I can get us some alone time," he said.

"Fetch me some cups," she returned and he stood up from his chair and crossed to the shelves.

She seized her chance then while his back was turned, thrusting her hand down the top of her tunic and pulling out the vial that was settled in her corset. She un-stoppered it swiftly and emptied the contents into the flagon of ale, tossing the empty vial into the bucket of water that caught the drips from the leaking roof. At the little splash she let out a curse and Jerod chuckled at her.

"I forgot that damn thing was there," she said, "you'd think they'd have fixed the fucking roof by now"

"Take it up with your father," he said, pouring a cup from the flagon and striding towards the door.

Asha took a deep breath once he had gone to steady her nerves. She could hear the faint murmurings of him talking with Klyn so she knew the other guard could not be far away. Once Jerod was dealt with she would have to go out and conceal Klyn. They would only be sedated, in a deep sleep for several hours. It should be more than enough time to get Theon safely to her ship. If all had gone to plan her men would already be moored just offshore. They had their orders and she had no doubt that they would follow through with them. Jerod came back in then and she bestowed a smile on him, leaning back against the table and seeing his eyes appraising her keenly.

"Some ale?" she asked him.

"After," he growled, crossing to her and dragging her up into his arms.

Jerod was rough in his handling of her but he knew she liked it that way. Other men she had tried had never quite been able to satisfy her, they were too gentle, thinking they ought to treat her like a Lady. Jerod didn't treat her like a Lady and that was just fine with her. She hoped he wouldn't be too angry that she had laced his ale when he woke up later. She could worry about that later, right now he was slamming her up against the wall and shoving his hand down her breeches, her back arching into him as his thumb found that spot. As rough as he was he was a damn considerate lover, always making sure she came first. Right now time was precious though and she regretfully shoved him away from her and shrugged her doublet away before pulling her tunic over her head. His hands came to pull at the lacings of her corset then, tossing it aside and letting his teeth graze almost painfully at her breast.

Her hands came to pull away his own doublet then and slide open his shirt, her hands roaming his chest, letting her fingernails press into his skin. He hissed in pleasure against her breast and pushed her back against the wall, his hands pulling down her breeches before he kissed and grazed his way down her body. Her back arched into him again as he let his tongue brush between her legs. Damn it. He was taking too long with this, she didn't have the time for this no matter how good it felt. She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled up hard. He growled out in pain and she knew he would make her pay from that once he was inside her. She hitched one leg up around his waist then and hurriedly untied his laces, feeling him rock hard against her hand. He smirked at her then and grabbed her hips, thrusting inside her in one swift move.

She could feel her back press harder and harder into the wall, the rough stones grazing her skin as Jerod moved hard and fast. The pain felt good though as he rocked pleasure through her, his length burying deep inside her on every thrust of his hips. She couldn't help the gasps and the moans as she met his pace, her nails scraping down her back, drawing blood, no doubt adding to the scars that she had already marked him with. He had left her with marks of her own but each one reminded her of a state of complete and utter bliss. She tugged on his hair again as she felt herself getting closer and closer. He seemed to know she was almost spent, slipping his hand between them and circling his rough thumb in that perfect motion that always sent her flying off somewhere wonderful. She stifled her moan of final pleasure by sinking her teeth into his shoulder as he did the same against her collarbone. He slipped out of her then, taking a step away so he could lace himself back up. She smirked at him and pulled her own breeches back up her legs.

He stepped away then to pour them both a cup of ale before collapsing into his chair and breathing hard. Asha tried not to look too pleased with herself as she fastened her corset back up, seeing him drain the cup out of the corner of her eye and reach out to fill another one. By the time she had slipped her tunic back over her head and pulled on her doublet he was passed out cold, the cup rolling across the floor from his limp grasp. She found his own doublet on the floor then and fumbled inside for the keys. She would get Theon first, she decided, and then he could help her drag Klyn back into the prison. They could take his keys too and lock them both inside. They would be found in the morning but by that time Theon would be long gone. She took the steps down to the prison hurriedly then and saw Theon stood waiting for her. He looked relieved to see her and she offered him a swift smile before jamming the key in the lock and swinging open the door.

"Come on," she said hurriedly, taking the steps two at a time as they raced back up to the top of the prison.

"What did you do?" Theon asked her, seeing Jerod passed out.

"Don't worry he's not dead," she said, opening the main door.

"Asha tell me you didn't …" he tailed off, taking in the man's half-dressed appearance.

"Relax Theon, I hardly gave him my honour, Jerod and I are good friends," she said and he grimaced, "come on … the other is passed out around here somewhere we need to drag him back inside."

Theon followed her out then and it only took them a few moments to find Klyn. Asha moved to lift his legs as Theon picked him up under the arms and they moved him as quickly as they could back indoors. She breathed a small sigh of relief then, taking down one of the cloaks that were hung up by the door and giving it to Theon. She warned him to keep the hood up as he pulled it about him before ushering him outside again. After finding Klyn's set of keys she took them as well and followed Theon out, locking the two passed out men inside. She tossed both sets of keys into the undergrowth then and hissed at Theon to follow her and stay close behind her as they moved off.

* * *

Theon's heart pounded in his chest as he and Asha skirted around the back of the prison, he could see the shrub leading down the bank and followed Asha's lead as she crouched low down in it and began to descend down towards the beach. His footsteps slipped slightly as they made their way downhill and he realised that there must be sand dunes beneath the scrub. Asha slipped then and hissed out a curse, he helped her up to her feet and as he did so a shout rang out. He couldn't quite make out the words but Asha was grabbing at his hand in an instant and practically dragging him down to the beach. She didn't need to tell him that someone had alerted the guards of his escape, he just couldn't understand how it could have been done so quickly.

"Damn those bastards!" she cursed as they reached the rocky beach and slumped down behind one of the bigger boulders.

"What is it?" he asked her, his heart pounding erratically.

"One of those bastards must have told father my plan … damn it I thought I could trust them," she almost snarled.

"What now?" he asked her in a panicked voice, "If you can't trust your own men then how can you trust them to get me away?"

"Trust me, the ones on the ship won't have betrayed me … I know exactly who this was," she said darkly, "pathetic bastard … just because I wouldn't marry him …"

"Asha …" he started.

"You need to go Theon, see the rough path in the rocks? Follow it, it will lead you round the bay and you will see the ship waiting. You'll have to wade out to it but as soon as they have you aboard they will set sail. Even if the other's manage to organise something they will never be able to catch up with you," Asha told him hurriedly.

"But what about you?" he asked her with wide eyes.

"Don't worry about me Theon, I'm a big girl … I'll sort that traitorous bastard out and throw the others off your scent," she told him.

"You'll be alright won't you?" he asked with wide eyes, his expression almost childlike.

"Of course I will," she soothed him and he looked placated.

"I will see you again won't I?" he questioned then and she wanted to cry.

"Someday," she promised and he grabbed her in an embrace.

"Take this," he said, unpinning his kraken pin from his lapel.

"Theon … I gave you that," she whispered.

"I know," he swallowed hard, "but you and I both know I don't belong here and I don't need this to remind me of you"

"I love you Theon," she met his eyes, taking the pin and pinning it to her own lapel; "now go, go back to your wife and be the father ours never could be"

"I will," he said, "I promise you"

"Go Theon," she urged him as the shouts from above grew louder.

"I love you," he said before pushing away from the rock, his eyes searching for the rough path she had pointed out to him.

He forced himself not to look back as he cut his hands on the barnacled rock, squeezing between two particularly large ones to continue along down the path. The shouts that had sounded so close were growing fainter now and he could almost allow himself to hope that he might actually get out of this and see Adele again. He pushed her beautiful image from his mind then and forced himself onwards, his cloak snagging against the jagged rocks as he pushed on, thankfully hearing nothing the further he went. After a while though the silence began to fill him with dread but he pushed down his rising sense of unease and forced his legs to keep moving. He almost collapsed in relief when he pushed through another pair of huge rocks and saw the boat waiting, moored just offshore. It would be a bloody cold swim but it was close enough that he should be able to make it. Hopefully it would be shallow enough that he could wade most of the way as Asha had told him. He tried not to think about where she was now as his eyes darted around, looking for any sign that someone was around. He took several deep breaths as he remained concealed between the rocks, calling on all his courage to take that leap of faith and make a break across the sands.

* * *

Asha stole through the shadows, looking out for _him, _damn bastard. She had foolishly given him her honour many years ago and they had been lovers for a time. Then he went and fell in love with her but she had not wanted to be his wife. He picked himself up, moved himself on or so she had thought but now he had betrayed her and her brother and she would not be letting him get away with it. She saw him after a few more moments, directing the men and sending them down in the direction of the beach. The bastard was pointing them right down to where the boat was moored for Theon and she was beyond furious with him. He didn't go with the men and as soon as the last one ran out of sight she emerged from her hiding place and drew out her dagger. Her steps were almost silent and he didn't know she was behind him until she grabbed him hard and placed the blade to his throat.

"You traitorous bastard," she hissed at him, pressing it closer to his skin.

"Asha … please …" he held his hands up in surrender in front of it.

"How could you do this to me?" she demanded of him.

"Because I love you … if your father found out you helped Theon escape …" he gabbled.

"He doesn't know it was me?" she asked despite herself.

"I pinned it on another," he said.

"Could you not have done that _after _I got him safely away," she snarled at him.

"I'm sorry Asha … I love you … please," he begged her.

"You're a damn fool," she whispered, "I'm sorry … but I can't trust you anymore and I love my brother more than you could ever love me …"

She sliced the blade through his neck then before he could say anymore and darted off after the men he had sent down to the beach. Gods she hoped Theon had got along the path alright, if he had then there was a chance he would have made it to the boat already. She slipped down what she knew to be a shortcut to the beach, hearing the shouts of the men as she sprinted down as quickly as her legs could carry her. She had to get down there before they did, she had to at least try and head them off in the wrong direction. This was Theon's one chance of escape, if he was caught now there would be no way she could ever get him off this island. Her feet hit sand then and she ran towards the shore, seeing the boat still moored just offshore and, her heart constricted painfully, Theon making his way towards it. The shouts of the men were coming closer then as Theon splashed his way towards the waiting vessel, her men on deck urging him onwards. She rounded on the advancing guards then and pulled her sword from the belt around her waist.

* * *

"Come on!"

"Faster lad!"

The men on deck were urging him on and Theon tried to get his legs to move faster, his lungs burning as he forced his weary body onwards. He was so close now but he could hear the men on the beach and he knew they were no friends of his. There was splashing behind him but he resisted the urge to turn around and look. He was at the boat now, the waves crashing up around his chest so he was almost treading water as his numb hands fumbled for the rungs on the side that he could haul himself up onto. His hand curled around one then as the thud of an arrow hit the wood mere inches from his head.

"Theon go!"

It was Asha he knew it and her voice gave him the strength to haul himself up the ladder. Hands outstretched to him from above and he reached up to grab hold of one as pain shot through his leg. He cried out despite himself, knowing an arrow had pierced him but thankfully the man above him held him fast, calling for others to help him. Theon was pulled up onto the deck then and he could barely register the men around him screaming out orders to hoist the sails and pull up the anchor. He could feel the pain in his leg but the freezing water of the sea seemed to have numbed it somewhat. Asha was all that was in his mind then, Asha who was still on the beach. He crawled along the deck then to the hull of the ship as the flap of the sails unfurling drowned his ears. He pulled himself up so he could see her and saw her in the shallows, clashing swords furiously with a man. Another he could see already lay face down in the water and his heart pounded, knowing that there was no way she would get away with releasing him now. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. No one was supposed to find out who had released him or how he had escaped. Now they would all know it had been Asha.

She plunged her sword into the man's stomach then and he fell with a splash into the sea and Theon breathed a sigh of relief as the boat began to move. The relief turned to horror though as he took note of the twenty or so men left on the beach, all of them drawing back their bows. He wanted to scream at them then, scream at them to aim them at him, scream at them and tell them to stop, that he would come back, that they didn't have to do it. His mouth wouldn't form the words though, there was only one thing he was able to scream and he knew it wouldn't do a single thing to help.

"Asha!"

She turned to face him then and he could see it in her eyes that she knew. Was it his imagination or was there a ghost of a smile on her face. It all seemed to happen in slow motion then. He screamed as the arrows were loosed but no sound came from her as he lurched forwards. Hands grabbed at him, stopping him from plunging overboard as the arrows hit their target. Still no sound came from her as she seemed to take an age to fall gracefully into the water. She didn't even twitch as he screamed over and over, tears spilling from his eyes as the hands dragged him down below the parapet. He heard the thud of arrows hitting the ship again then as he lay there, staring up at the night sky with tears streaming down his face, unable to see anything but her falling so slowly into the freezing waves.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm so sorry, I know I'm horrible. Please forgive me!

:)


	46. Real Feelings

**A/N: **Hey guys, I'm still feeling really bad about the last chapter but people don't seem to be baying for my blood (too much at least!) Anyway, this one is all set at Winterfell as its the last real chapter where everyone there is going to be together as the boys will be off to war.

Hope you all enjoy, any comment or feedback would be awesome!

:)

* * *

**Real Feelings**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb couldn't help but narrow his eyes as he walked into the council chambers and saw them all poring over some map or another. He was beyond angry with Aegon, not only had he already betrayed his sister before they were even wed but now he was allowing Jon to go to Dragonstone and risk his life all to save his sometime lover. Dany looked up warily as she sensed his presence and he didn't even have it in him to smile reassuringly at her. She had been less than impressed with Aegon's actions but he appeared to have won her over. Robb would not be that easily placated and they all knew it. He imagined he and Dany would have argued over it if he hadn't insisted on them not discussing it. He didn't want to argue with her, he never wanted to argue with her but he wanted to do so even less now that he knew she was carrying his child. No one else knew yet and her body was betraying no changes yet other than her sickness in the mornings and her complete aversion to wine and ale. Robb could not even kiss her after drinking any as it made her feel nauseous. He moved his eyes away from his wife then and fixed them on Aegon, they would be marching in mere days and it was about time they cleared a few things up between them. Aegon met his eyes then and Robb knew that he was thinking the same thing.

"I think we've done enough for now," he said.

"Are you sure?" Jon asked him.

"Of course," Aegon smiled, "you should be making the most of the time you have left here"

"There are some people I need to say goodbye to," Jon said then.

"Then go," he urged him.

"Robb … would you come for a walk with me?" Dany asked hopefully as Jon walked out.

"Later," he said softly and she saw his eyes drift to Aegon.

"Robb …" she started again.

"It's fine Dany," Aegon cut in, "I have some things to discuss with Robb about the tactics we're going to be employing"

"Right," she bit her lip, looking unconvinced.

"I'll find you later," Robb promised, placing a kiss to her temple.

"Behave," she said lowly, squeezing his upper arm, for reassurance or to warn him he didn't know.

He watched her walk away then and swallowed hard. The last thing he needed was her angry with him so he knew he would have to at least try and keep his temper with Aegon. He turned back to the man in question then and saw he was pouring them both a hefty measure of wine. Robb took his when offered and took a sip to be polite before setting it down. Aegon sighed heavily then and knew he would have to say something before Robb launched into his tirade. This tension between them had gone on for long enough and he was sick and tired of it.

"I know you and I have never really seen eye to eye," he started and Robb snorted, "but you have to know that I never intended for any of this to happen"

"You knew what could happen when you took that woman to your bed," Robb snarled.

"I never even thought she could end up with child … I didn't think of anything, I could only think of her," he confessed.

"You're betrothed to my sister," Robb said coldly.

"And I can see how thrilled that's made you," Aegon muttered.

"Can you blame me? She's been through hell and now she has to suffer you as well," he snapped.

"I would never hurt her," Aegon shot back, his eyes blazing in fury.

"You don't think fathering a bastard has hurt her?" Robb asked him incredulously, "Just because you haven't raised your hand to her it doesn't mean she isn't suffering!"

"Sansa has been very understanding, perhaps more understanding than I deserve but understanding nonetheless," Aegon argued back.

"You don't deserve it," Robb stated then, meeting his eyes coldly.

"I know you don't think much of me Robb but I'm not the monster you seem to want me to be. I care very much about Sansa … about all of this family … even you," he said and Robb snorted. "You don't believe me?" Aegon continued, "Dany adores you and I love her, if keeping her and Jon in my life means putting up with you then I'll do it. I would never wish you harm although I think you'd wish it on me … I know how much it would hurt them if anything happened to you and I will do everything in my power to make sure you come back from this war"

"I don't wish you harm," Robb said quietly after several moments of awkward silence; "I know how much you mean to Dany and Jon … it doesn't mean I like you and it doesn't mean I don't want to punch you for what you've done but … I don't wish ill on you"

"What I did with Val was foolish, I know that … I was driven by lust I'll admit that but I fell in love with that girl Robb and knowing she is chained up at Dragonstone for the _crime _of carrying my child makes me sick," Aegon told him, meeting his eyes.

"Why did you do it?" Robb asked him.

"Because I could I suppose," Aegon shrugged, "I couldn't help myself … I'm sorry I don't have any better defence than that"

"And now Jon has to pay for it," Robb shook his head, turning away from him.

"I would never force Jon to go but he _wants _to," Aegon stressed.

"You could forbid him, you're the King," Robb spat.

"He's my brother, I would never forbid him or order him to do anything," he shot back.

"He's _my _brother," Robb snarled, "and I won't see him dead"

"But you would see an innocent child dead?" Aegon raised his brows.

"Of course not, but you could send anyone! Why Jon?!" he demanded.

"He wants to," Aegon said again, "because he's my brother and he wants to do this for me. Scowl at me all you want but you know damn well he'd do the same thing for you, or for any of the others. Gods Robb, did he not run into a burning building to save Dany because he knew it would kill you to lose her?! This is no different! This is what Jon does because he cares … he cares more than anyone I have ever met in my life. We have all done selfish things in our lives, and being with Val was perhaps the most selfish thing I have ever done. I don't want Jon to pay for my sins but I cannot and I will not forbid him from doing this, he's a free man Robb and this is his choice."

Robb said nothing then, simply taking in Aegon's words as the silence washed over them. For something to do he picked up the glass of wine and sipped on it, noticing as he did so that his hand shook slightly. He took a deep breath when he placed it back down and saw Aegon's own hands clenched white around the edge of the table as he stared down at the map atop it. Suddenly he felt almost guilty for the accusing tone he had been using and for implying that he was putting Jon in danger. He knew damn well it was Jon's own choice and that no one would be able to talk him out of it, even his mother crying and pleading with him hadn't worked. Jon would go to Dragonstone and try and free Val because he was a good man, perhaps the best of them all. Aegon looked up then and met Robb's eyes and he took a deep breath before opening his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I know it's Jon's choice and that you're not forcing him … I just hate the thought of him being in so much danger. Jon isn't just my brother, he's my best friend. Growing up we did everything together me and him and then later we had Theon too. Jon never got on with him like I did but he put up with him for me. Now Theon's gone and I … I don't want Jon to be next because I don't know what I'd do on my own …"

"I'm sorry," Aegon offered then, "I know it can't be easy for you at the moment. Your father said there has still been no word from Pyke. I truly hope your friend will come back safely. You know I don't want Jon to go either, but what can I do?"

"Nothing," Robb said heavily, running his hand distractedly through his hair.

"Do you think we can call a truce?" he asked then, tentatively stepping forward and offering his hand.

"Truce," Robb agreed after a moment, grasping his hand tightly.

He offered Aegon a smile then which the fair man returned before letting go of his hand and turning to leave the room. Robb paused when he got to the doorway though, a sudden thought occurring to him. Aegon looked at him expectantly when he turned around and closed the door, walking back towards the table Aegon had returned to.

"What is it?" Aegon asked him.

"Jon," he said quietly, "he would never ask you this for himself but I know he longs for it … Jon has always known he was a bastard and it has always been like shackles around him. He would never admit it but I saw growing up what it did to him every time someone taunted him with the name _Snow_. Jon deserves a name … a true name, and you can give him that"

"Of course," Aegon breathed, "I had meant to of course … but so many things have been happening it has slipped from my mind"

"You won't tell him I asked? I don't think his pride could take it," Robb said softly.

"I won't say anything," Aegon promised him.

"Thank you," Robb said meaningfully.

"You're welcome," he replied and they locked eyes for a moment, sharing another tentative smile before Robb really did turn and walk away.

* * *

Jon knocked softly at the door. He had intended to go straight up there but he had been pulled out into the Godswood first, feeling the overwhelming need for a few minutes of peace that only kneeling before the heart tree could give him. He had seen Serra on the way back but she hadn't seen him. She had been at the smiths and it looked as though Gendry were finishing for the day. Jon had watched as they wandered back towards the Cassel's, a smile tugging at his lips as he saw them join hands as they ambled away. Serra would be happy, she had told him she would be but now he had seen it with his own eyes he felt some kind of weight lift from him. He had decided to go up to her then, he needed to see her before he left because somewhere deep inside him he knew that she was special. Not that she could ever be his but that didn't mean he couldn't go and see her one last time. Likely she would have departed for Storm's End before he made it back to Winterfell. He hoped she would be happy there, that she and her baby would thrive and that Aegon would find a good man for her who would look after them both. He tried not to imagine himself in that role as she opened the door and fixed a wide but tired smile on him.

"You look tired," he stated as she stepped aside to let him in.

"Steffon is … testing at times," she said wearily and he smiled despite himself.

"Sit yourself down, let me do that," he said as she made to pour them some wine.

"Thank you," she said, her smile lighting up her eyes as she met his for a moment.

"You're welcome," he said softly, his heart pounding as he poured them both a measure.

"Is it true you're going to Dragonstone?" she asked him then as he approached her.

"Yes," he said, avoiding her eyes slightly as he sat down next to her.

"You'll be careful won't you?" she asked then, was he imagining the concern in her voice?

"Of course," he replied, trying to keep his voice even and reassuring.

"I don't suppose I'll see you again," she whispered and he turned to meet her eyes.

"We can write," he said before he could stop himself.

"I'd like that," she smiled widely, "you've been a really good friend to me Jon"

"And you to me," he replied, trying not to be disappointed that he was merely a friend to her.

"Steffon will miss you," she said then and he swallowed hard.

"He's only young, no doubt he'll forget all about me soon enough," he said sadly.

"He won't," she whispered, "and neither will I"

Jon wasn't sure what to say to that but he was saved by Steffon's whimpering coming from the cradle on the other side of the room. Margaery avoided his gaze then and he saw her make to rise up from the sofa, no doubt to cross the room to comfort her son. He curled his hand lightly around her wrist though and she stilled, her eyes finding his again. Jon held them for a long minute until the baby's cries became more insistent. "Let me," he said softly, "I'd like to hold him one last time."

Margaery merely nodded in response and he let her go before rising up and striding towards the cradle. Steffon calmed a little when Jon appeared above him, his legs still kicking furiously and his arms waving up from his blankets. He made an angry noise then and Jon lifted him up into his arms and rocked him gently until he was soothed, meeting the baby's icy blue eyes that he knew were identical to his father's. Steffon's mouth broke into a gummy smile then and Jon thought his heart would break. He may have sounded dismissive of Margaery's claims that her baby would miss him but he could not deny that he himself would miss the little bundle almost as much as he would miss his mother. He felt her hand on the small of his back then and he swallowed hard as tears stung his eyes.

"He's never smiled at anyone but me before," she said quietly.

"I'm going to miss you," he said just as quietly, "I'm going to miss both of you so much"

"Promise me we'll see you again Jon," she whispered, laying her head down against his back.

"I promise," he swore.

He didn't know how he would do it but he would keep that promise because he could not imagine never seeing her or the baby in his arms ever again.

* * *

Ser Ralf sighed as he stamped through the doorway, seeing Adele in her spot by the fire, her needlework abandoned on her lap as she stared out into nothing. This was how he would find her more often than not and it broke his heart. He wasn't sure whether to clear his throat and draw attention to the fact that he had returned or not. After a moment of watching her he decided against it, instead pulling off his boots and tossing them aside before he threw a few logs onto the fire. He saw that she had put his dinner out on the table then and his heart ached even more. Nothing he said seemed to bring her any comfort and she hadn't managed a proper smile in months. The light in her eyes had gone out and he was certain the only reason she kept going was because of the baby. Damn it all he had known that Theon Greyjoy would break her heart but he had never imagined it happening like this. He picked at his food then but he had little appetite, his eyes again drawn back to his daughter. She seemed to snap out of her trance then but it was not him she looked to, instead her hands went to stroke soothingly across her rounded stomach and he imagined that the baby had moved. There was a hint of a smile on her face but no more than that and it was quickly replaced by a look of pain and regret. The child inside her seemed to be both a blessing and a curse.

"Are you alright sweetheart?" he asked her then and she raised her eyes to his in faint surprise.

"Fine," she said and they both knew it was a lie, "did you get your dinner?"

"Yes," he smiled for her and her lips twitched slightly, the action rather forced.

"Good," she nodded absently, her fingers toying with the threads of her needlework.

"Thank you," he added then.

"It's nothing," she said, rising up from her chair, "I think I'll retire … I'm tired"

"Of course," he nodded, forcing a smile of his own for her.

"Goodnight father," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek before she retreated up the stairs.

"Goodnight sweetheart," he called after her.

He heard her door close after a moment and the creak of the floorboards above him. Gods he wished she would just be able to sleep for one night, her body and her mind both needed the rest, not to mention her unborn child. He prayed inwardly that she would just be allowed to sleep without the nightmares coming for her. Every night he would have to go into her room and hold her while she sobbed in his arms. She would wake him with her screams and crying out Theon's name. She never told him what she dreamt of but she didn't really need to, her heart wrenching sobs told him more than he needed to know. She was frightened her husband would never come back and the thought terrified Ser Ralf as well. He had been less than impressed with Adele's choice but he could not deny how much she loved Theon and he was terrified that the end of him would finish off his beloved daughter as well.

* * *

"You came," Olyvar stated as he turned around on hearing the crunch of leaves underfoot.

"You asked me to," Sansa replied.

"Part of me thought you would ignore my note," he admitted.

"You're leaving," she said by way of an explanation.

"A lot of men are leaving," he said softly as she came to a halt just in front of him.

"I don't care for a lot of men," she said quietly, her eyes finding the floor.

"But you care for me?" he asked her almost hopefully.

"You know I do," she whispered, "but that only makes all of this harder"

"It's my fault," he said, shaking his head, "I shouldn't have been so craven … I should have asked for your hand before …"

"My father promised Aegon my hand before we even reached Winterfell," she cut him off, her tone almost bitter.

"Is it true what they are saying? That he has fathered a bastard already?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said after a moment.

"I would never have betrayed you like that," he said.

"He never betrayed me," she snapped back, "he never even knew me when he was with her, I was a promise no more … I will not hear you speak against him!"

"I'm sorry if I offended you my Lady," he said curtly, making to move away from her.

"Wait!" she called him back and he paused, "I'm sorry … I am just so sick of everyone looking at me as though I'm a pathetic victim"

"I don't think you're pathetic, I think you're incredible," he breathed.

"Someday all of this will make sense," she said, meeting his eyes, "someday we will both understand why we could never be"

"I wish you every happiness Sansa … but I do not think I will ever be content without you," he said.

"You were once, why not again?" she asked him almost desperately.

"I hope I see you again," he said, ignoring her question and stroking his hand lightly down her cheek.

"Be careful," she whispered, leaning into his touch.

"I'll never forget you," he whispered back, bringing his lips to her forehead for a long moment before he wrenched himself away.

"Wait!" she called him back again, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What is it?" he asked her as she came slowly towards him.

"Just this," she breathed, her breath hitching in her throat as she leaned up and pressed her lips lightly to his, "be safe Olyvar," she whispered against his lips when she pulled away.

"I'll miss you," he whispered back, kissing her lightly once more.

"Goodbye," she said, her eyes welling with tears before she wrenched them from his and practically fled from the Godswood.

"Goodbye," he said sadly as she rounded the corner out of his sight.

* * *

Robb faltered slightly when he entered his and Dany's chambers to find her lounging bare on her stomach with a book propped up against the pillows. Desire stirred him at once as he let his eyes travel over her, his hands coming to loosen his doublet.

"I've been waiting for you," she stated then and he smiled knowingly.

"Have you now?" he said softly, trailing his fingers lightly along her spine before sitting himself down on the edge of the bed to tug off his boots.

"Hmm," she agreed, flipping the page over, her eyes not leaving her book.

"What are you reading?" he asked her as he shrugged out of his doublet.

"History," she replied, "Stark history … I was looking for some names for the baby"

"Have you found anything?" he asked her as he pulled his shirt up over his head.

"You Starks seem fond of Brandon," she said then and he snorted slightly, "and Rickard …"

"Are you calling us predictable?" he asked, twisting his body so he could place a kiss to her shoulder.

"Traditional perhaps," she conceded and he smiled against her skin.

"There's not much traditional about you and me," he said then.

"No," she agreed, closing the book and rolling over, her hand coming to stroke down his cheek.

"I love you," he told her, his eyes boring into hers, his gaze so beautiful it was almost painful.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she breathed.

"But you know I have to," he said, turning his head to kiss her palm.

"I do," she agreed but he could see the sadness in her eyes.

"Dany promise me you'll keep smiling for our baby," he said then and she frowned.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"If I don't come home Dany …" he started and she pulled herself up at once and grabbed his face in her hands, kissing him before he could say any more.

"Don't ever say that," she said furiously when she pulled away.

"Dany …" he started.

"No," she shook her head, pressing her lips to his again and pulling him down on top of her.

He couldn't protest then as he was crushed down against her soft, warm body, his hands wandering her bare flesh of their own accord. Her hands found his laces then as one of his wandered between her legs. She arched her back into him as he teased at her, feeling her more than ready for him. She shoved his breeches down his hips then, her soft touch guiding him towards her as a low moan left her mouth as he continued pressing his thumb against that spot that drove her wild. He moved his hand away as he slipped inside her, his lips leaving hers and trailing down her neck as he began to rock his hips slowly. Her own met his pace and they move in perfect harmony as they always did, her hands coming to fist in his hair, her thighs clenching more tightly around his waist so his body pressed closer to hers. He let his hands roam her bare skin then, allowing them to linger at her breasts which were so sensitive to his touch now that she was with child. She moaned out loudly as he toyed with them, her own hands leaving his hair and travelling down his back, her fingernails lightly scraping his skin as they did so.

"Promise me Robb," she panted out then, her breathing ragged, "promise you'll come back to me"

"I promise," he groaned into the skin of her neck as she began to tighten around him.

"I love you," she moaned out, her breaths sharper now as she neared her end.

He felt her come crashing down around him then and his fingertips clenched in the skin of her hip as she moaned his name, his own relief spilling from him not moments later. Regretfully he shifted at once, sliding from her perfect warmth and rolling to lay at her side, propping himself up on one elbow before letting his other hand wander down the valley of her breasts and settle on her stomach.

"Promise you won't worry for me," he breathed when he found he could speak again.

"I can't promise that Robb … you know I can't," she met his eyes.

"Our baby needs you to be calm and relaxed," he told her, his eyes boring into hers.

"Our baby is stronger than you give him credit for," she said.

"Him?" he smiled slightly.

"You want your heir don't you?" she smiled back.

"I want a strong, healthy babe, boy or girl it matters not to me," he answered her.

"I think it's a boy," she said and his smile widened at her certainty.

"Why?" he asked her out of curiosity.

"I don't know I just do," she said.

"You're going to be so different when I get back," he said, rubbing his hand across her stomach.

"You mean fat?" she raised her brows.

"No," he chuckled, bending his head to kiss her, "I mean different"

"I suppose I will be," she agreed, moving her own hand to lay atop his.

"I love you so much," he breathed.

"I know you do," she smiled, "and I love you … I will pray for you every day Robb, to the old Gods and the Seven … I just want you back here in my arms"

"I will be," he promised, "as if I would ever be content anywhere else."

* * *

Ned could practically see Catelyn seething as she pulled a brush rather more forcefully through her hair than he imagined was necessary. She was angry with him and he could understand why but he had precious little choice in the matter, with Bran dreaming what he was they needed him with them. He was an asset whether they liked it or not. Bran would be kept safe enough, Aegon had agreed to take him on as his squire and when the time came for battles he would be kept safely in the camps. If Bran had another dream it could help them immensely and like it or not it would be better for them to know what it was right away instead of having to wait days if not weeks for word of it to come in a letter from Winterfell. "Cat, would you please come to bed?" he asked her softly then and she slammed her brush down on the vanity, the sound making him wince. She did as he had asked her though and climbed into bed next to him. He sighed heavily when she turned her back firmly on him and settled down against the pillows, the tension rolling from her practically slapping him in the face.

"I know you're angry with me," he said quietly then, staring up at the ceiling as she lay unmoving at his side; "and I know why but what choice do I have Cat? I will keep Bran safe I promise you, and Robb too and Jon … I will do everything I can to make sure our boys come home … that I come home to you. Please don't send me away without your blessing … I love you Cat and it kills me when we're like this. I know it's my fault but … I love this family and I'm doing what's best for us, you know that don't you?"

Still she said nothing and he sighed heavily again and tried to ignore the stabbing ache in his heart. He hated fighting with his wife, he loved her more than he could ever describe to her and he wished he had the words but he wasn't sure there were any powerful enough in the world. He would hate for her to send him away to battle when she was still so angry with him. Just as he was about to give up and try and close his eyes she rolled over and shifted herself to his side, laying her head down against his chest and clutching him close to her. He let his own arms come around her then and thankfully found her body relaxed under his touch.

"I love you," she whispered against his heart then and he breathed a sigh of relief before kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her as they both finally managed to close their eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you liked that, a few goodbyes thrown in there as I won't be focusing too much on the departure as there are other matters to attend to next chapter! I'll get the next one up at the weekend for you all.

:)


	47. Treason and Trepidation

**A/N: **Hey guys! This was supposed to be up yesterday so apologies for that, I had trouble getting into my account but it's all good now.

Hope you all enjoy this one, do let me know!

:)

* * *

**Treason and Trepidation**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Saying goodbye had been even more painful this time and Ned noted that even the ever jovial Tyrion Lannister looked troubled as he pulled himself up onto his horse, sending a reassuring smile to Bran as he sat saddled on a mount next to him. He looked towards Catelyn then and saw her bring a smile to her own face which he returned before his eyes slid to Robb and Sansa who were both saying their final farewells to their significant others. Robb was holding Dany so tightly that Ned was beginning to wonder if he would ever let go. Sansa and Aegon's farewell seemed far more guarded as they spoke quietly to one another, their expressions serious. Despite himself Ned manoeuvred his horse slightly closer to them so he could hear what they were saying. He knew it was prying and that he shouldn't but he was worried about his daughter and more than a little disappointed in Aegon's actions over Val. All he needed was a little reassurance that she was alright.

"… and you're certain it will be safe?" Sansa was asking.

"I will not send for you until I am certain," Aegon told her, his eyes meeting hers.

"I never thought I'd go back," she confessed then and Ned felt guilt stab at him.

"I promised you it would be different this time, I don't intend to break that promise Sansa … I know you might not believe that after my recent behaviour," he said sadly.

"You hadn't even met me," she shook her head.

"But I was betrothed to you," he said, catching one of her hands in his own, "I swear … when we are wed I will be faithful to you"

"Aegon …" she started.

"Don't," he shook his head, "I know I've already shamed you … that I've fathered a bastard and I don't know how to make that right …"

"You make it right by making sure that baby is saved," she told him firmly.

"Thank you … for being so understanding," he said meaningfully.

"There are far worse men in the world than you Aegon," she replied, "that child is your responsibility, and as your future wife I understand that"

"Thank you," he said again, unable to find any other words.

"You best go," she said as one of the dragons let out an irritated roar.

"I'd better," he agreed, hesitating for a moment before bringing her hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"Stay safe, I'll pray for you," she promised him.

"If the Gods are good it will be over with swiftly," he replied dropping her hand.

"Goodbye," she said then.

"Goodbye Sansa," he said, meeting her eyes for a moment before turning to his own horse.

Dany noticed his movement and regretfully pulled herself a slight way out of Robb's embrace, gazing up at him and memorizing his face as he looked down on her, his beautiful eyes not leaving hers. There was so much she would say to him but there was not the time. He seemed to understand her silent predicament as he smiled slightly before pressing his lips firmly to her forehead. When he pulled back she saw the resolve in his eyes and she knew that this was goodbye.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he whispered back, pressing one more kiss to her lips before he tore himself away from her.

He didn't look back as he hauled himself up onto his horse. If he looked back he would cry and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wouldn't let Dany see that, he couldn't let her see how weak being without her would make him, knowing she was worried enough as it was. Aegon gave the order to move out then and he pressed his heels into his horse, urging him to follow on after the open cart that two of the dragons were perched in; their beady eyes finding him and for once not hissing at him. Viserion was staying behind with Dany and Robb was slightly reassured by that as he looked down to see Grey Wind trotting at his side, his wolf's eyes fixed warily on the scaled beasts in front of him. Wolves and dragons marching together, who would have thought?

* * *

_Aboard the Black Wind_

* * *

"Will he die?"

Theon heard the gruff voice as though through a haze of fog and he somehow knew the man was referring to him. _No, _he wanted to say, _no of course I'm not going to fucking die. _All that came from his mouth was a groan though as he tried to open his eyes, feeling his skin almost aflame around him. Gods he was hot. Could someone not open a window?

"His leg looks bad," someone else said then, someone closer to him.

His leg? Gods his leg. He remembered now, remembered the pain of the arrow being embedded in his shin. Gods it had hurt but the pain had been outstripped almost at once and he moaned out again as he remembered the arrows sailing into her, remembered how she had not let out one tiny cry of pain before she fell. He wanted to cry but still he couldn't get his eyes to open. They seemed trapped closed and the only images that his mind wanted to conjure up were those of his sister's last moments.

"Will he lose it?"

The gruff voice was back then and Theon wanted to protest. If they cut of his leg he would be next to useless. How would he be able to mount a horse and ride back to Winterfell? Would Adele even want him anymore? Tears leaked out then before he could stop them and his eyes finally came open, his vision hazy as he saw two or three men milling around in the faint light of the cabin. There was a lantern hanging from the beams and he fixed his attention on that as the sound of the waves crashing against the boat reached his ears.

"If we can get him to shore he might have a chance," the man closer to him said then.

"If this wind keeps up we should see land in a few days," the second man said.

"A …" Theon tried, "A …" he couldn't seem to form the words.

"Asha?" the man closest supplied for him and Theon choked on a sob, shaking his head.

"Adele?" the second man tried then, his face looming above him and Theon nodded.

"His wife?" the first asked.

"Aye," the second replied, "I hope she was worth all this Greyjoy"

Theon could only nod then. _Yes, _he wanted to tell them, _Gods yes she was worth everything. _Guilt stabbed him then as he thought of Asha. She had told him to go home, to get back to his wife and be a good father to his child and he determined to do that for his sister. Whatever this fever was that had taken over, whatever infection that had taken root in his leg, he would endure it all to get back. His sister had died to save him and he would not repay that sacrifice by giving in and following her to the Gods.

"Asha," he whispered then.

"Balon will have their heads for this," the first man muttered.

"I don't know what they were thinking, murdering her like that," the second said quietly.

"She faced it well," the gruff man spoke.

"Aye," another voice agreed.

"We best get back on deck," the first spoke, "are you alright tending to him?"

"Aye," the man closest to him said softly.

"Keep him alive," the gruff voice growled, "Asha died for him, it would be a fucking waste if he followed her to the depths."

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

The flies were getting to them now, to those tarred heads adorning the entrance gate. Twenty three of them in all. Balon had even ordered the heads be severed from those men that Asha had managed to take down before she had been felled. Murdered was a more accurate term. Assassinated. She hadn't stood a chance against all those bowmen. He had told them to get Theon back at any cost but he had never imagined that they would take down his daughter in the process. Did that make it his fault? He stared up at them and tried to decide if he was to blame. He had taken their heads himself, every last one of them, one after another after another, not stopping until they were done even though his arms were aching. After that he had shut himself up in his chambers and destroyed everything that could be destroyed. Still he was not satiated. He had told Alannys but he wasn't even sure if she had understood what he had said. Sometimes she seemed to think that their sons were still alive. That Theon was still a babe in the cradle.

_Theon. _

He balled his hands into fists. Damn it all why had Asha risked her life to spring her brother, to send him back to the North that had held him captive for so many years? He had sent ships after the _Black Wind _but he was not hopeful that they would catch up to him. His heir lost to him again and now Asha as well, his ferocious daughter who he had not been able to resist being quietly proud of. He tore his eyes from the severed heads then and stamped back through the courtyard towards the keep. He knew damn well who was to blame for all of this.

Stark.

Winterfell.

Oh he would make them pay, he would not rest until he punished the North for taking his children away and leaving him with nothing but his Seastone chair and a wife who was half mad with grief over her lost sons. What use was his throne now with no one to claim it once he was gone? He thought of Theon again then and fought the urge to slam his fists into the stone walls. Theon. His ungrateful son. His only issue left. Gone back to the North. Back to his northern whore. Without her he would have stayed here at Pyke, Balon had no doubt. She would pay first. He would make her suffer and he would make the Starks suffer. He would destroy them all until he was the only choice Theon had left in the world. Then his son would have no choice but to come home.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne couldn't keep the smile from her face as Willas smothered her stomach with kisses. He looked up at her then and she could see the adoration shining in his eyes. This moment should be perfect. The moment she told the man she loved that she was carrying his child. It was tainted though, the shadow of Stannis looming all too blackly above them. She tried not to let it show on her face but Willas' forehead soon creased into a frown and she knew she must have given herself away.

"What is it?" he asked her softly.

"You know what," she replied.

"He'll be gone soon Erinne … and then you and I won't have to hide anymore," he soothed her.

"This is all so wrong," she whispered, shaking her head.

"Do you wish this wasn't happening?" he asked her, his eyes wide.

"No," she reassured him at once, pressing his hand against her stomach, "this right here is all I have ever wanted … I just never thought it would happen like this …"

He opened his mouth to say something soothing then but before he could Loras had pushed open the door. Willas shifted himself up from the floor at once, his brother coming to aid him up onto the sofa, Erinne jumping up at once and crossed to the other side of the room. They caught one another's eyes then as Loras muttered _Stannis _quietly to them. Erinne's stomach churned uncomfortably as she stood by the side table, just waiting to pour the wine. Loras went to resume his post by the door then and she swallowed hard as the door opened. Stannis visibly faltered when he saw that his wife had company and Erinne summoned up all her courage and sent him a smile.

"You're just in time my love," she said, pouring a large measure of wine, "Lord Willas came by to speak with me about a gift for Shireen's name day"

"Indeed," Stannis said, sounding surprised but thankfully not suspicious.

"Perhaps you could help?" she smiled, handing him the full glass.

"Perhaps," he agreed, bending his head to kiss her firmly on the lips.

She forced another smile when he pulled away before turning to pour another glass for Willas and another for herself. Stannis had seated himself down opposite Willas when she turned back to them, walking shakily to Willas and handing him his own glass.

"Thank you my Queen," he said politely.

"You're most welcome my Lord," she returned before retreating to perch herself next to her husband.

"To Shireen," Stannis raised his glass then.

"Shireen," Erinne and Willas echoed him, determinedly avoiding one another's eyes.

"Hopefully the wedding will follow on soon after her name day," he said then.

"I can hardly wait," Willas said, his fist clenching around his glass as Stannis took Erinne's hand.

"I hope you will be as happy as Erinne and I," he said then, raising his wife's hand to his lips.

"As do I," Willas forced a smile.

"Has there been any sign Shireen will flower soon?" Stannis asked her quietly then.

"None as yet my love," she said just as quietly, catching Loras' eye and quickly looking away.

"There is no rush," Willas put in then.

"Of course not," Stannis forced a smile of his own.

"You know Shireen loves to read … perhaps you could get her a book?" Erinne put in then.

"A wonderful idea my Queen," Willas said before draining his glass, "forgive me for my unscheduled visit"

"Not at all," she said, forcing her voice to sound unaffected.

"Your Graces," he bowed as best he could with his cane before heading for the door.

Loras opened it for him and Erinne averted her gaze, wondering why Stannis had come to her in the first place. When Loras closed the door after Willas her husband looked up to him and asked him to leave them alone. Erinne's heart pounded in her chest then as she thought about exactly why Stannis would want to see her alone. Her hands fluttered unconsciously around her stomach then and he was distracted by her movement. To her surprise he moved his own hand atop one of hers to still it.

"Has it stirred yet?" he asked her quietly.

"I thought I felt something yesterday, but I cannot be certain," she lied. Her baby would not stir for weeks but for pretences sake she had to make out that it had.

"It will grow stronger in time," he said reassuringly then and she forced herself to meet his eyes.

"I wasn't expecting you today my love," she said then.

"I've been neglecting you," he stated.

"Of course you haven't … you're the King, you have much to do," she protested.

"And you're my Queen … you're carrying my heir. I ought to spend more time with you, lest people talk," he said and she frowned slightly.

"What do you mean my love?" she asked him.

"I've banished Lord Baelish," he told her.

"Why?" she asked him.

"He spoke out of turn," he answered cryptically, his hand rubbing at her stomach.

"May I ask what about?" she asked, her heart pounding.

"You," he said simply, meeting her eyes.

"Me?" she whispered, her throat painfully dry as she met his gaze.

"He questioned the company you keep … made certain implications about your relationship with Willas Tyrell," he said.

"I don't understand," she said, her stomach churning.

"Lies my Queen is all," he reassured her, "nothing for you to concern yourself with"

"It is my concern if he accuses me of treason against you," she gabbled out.

"As I said, lies," he soothed, "do not upset yourself … think of our child"

"I cannot think why he would say such things," she shook her head, her mind racing.

"Willas does not visit you often then?" he asked, his voice calm but she sensed the trap.

"Not me," she lied, "he comes to see Ser Loras often; I believe they are close"

"You allow that? When Loras is supposed to guard you?" he questioned her.

"He guards me well enough," she shrugged, "what harm could come to me here anyway?"

"What indeed," he smiled slightly.

"If it please you I can ask Ser Loras to see his brother only when he is off duty," she said then.

"You must do whatever you think is best," he said evenly and she calmed somewhat.

"I think it best no one question my devotion to you," she replied.

"Indeed," he said quietly, "I must go," he stood abruptly then.

"Oh," she said in surprise, "so soon …"

"I have other things to attend to but I will break my fast with you tomorrow," he said.

"Of course … I shall look forward to it my love," she smiled for him.

"Goodnight," he returned her smile, hesitating slightly before capturing her lips for a moment.

Erinne sat stunned then as he made his way out of her chambers. Stannis never showed any affection towards her unless it was for the benefit of others. Even when he had shared her bed he had never once kissed her, he had merely got between her legs and done what had to be done. She hardly had a moment to think about it though as the door opened again and Loras re-entered, sending her a look of concern. She tried to smile reassuringly but failed miserably, bursting into tears as soon as she met his eyes that were so like Willas'. In the next moment his arms were around her and she clung to him, stifling her sobs in his shoulder as he ran his hands up and down her back. Once she managed to calm herself down she pulled away from him and met his eyes.

"You need to tell Willas to keep away, it's getting too dangerous," she whispered, "Stannis has banished Lord Baelish"

"I know," Loras nodded, "Varys warned me, I was going to tell you before but … you were otherwise engaged"

"This child is the most important thing now," she said firmly, "we have been too reckless but no more … there is more than just my life at stake now, I will not risk my baby"

"You sound like Margaery," Loras smiled faintly.

"Have you had any word from her?" she asked him in concern.

"Varys tells me she has birthed a healthy boy," he told her.

"That's wonderful news," she smiled.

"Yes," he nodded his agreement, "but you're right … you and Willas need to stay away from one another for the time being"

"Stannis doesn't believe it for now … but if others talk …" she stressed.

"I know," Loras soothed her, "trust me … I will keep him away, he would not risk your life nor the life of your child, he'll stay away I promise you."

* * *

_Cerwyn_

* * *

"You're brooding," Aegon stated as he sat heavily down next to Jon.

His brother said nothing but his lips turned up into a wry smile and Aegon waited for a moment to see if he would speak, sipping on his flagon of ale. After a minute or two he glanced around them, seeing Robb on the opposite side of the fire, looking completely engrossed in the letter he was writing. No one else was around and Aegon imagined it was because Rhaenar was curled up by the fire as well. Ghost and Grey Wind had gone off to hunt and Rhaegal was flying around overhead. Aegon looked up to make sure he was still there and smiled slightly when he saw he was.

"What is it?" Aegon pressed then, "I know it can't be Serra because all that has been dealt with"

Robb fought the urge not to look up sharply then, keeping his eyes trained on the parchment in front of him as he carefully wrote out another word. Aegon clearly assumed he was not listening but now he couldn't help himself, his curiosity well and truly peaked.

"Does it have to be a woman?" Jon finally spoke up.

"I'm not a fool Jon," Aegon said softly and he sighed heavily.

"_Would you stay with me tonight Jon?"_

"_I shouldn't …"_

"_Just hold me in your arms … please?"_

He hadn't been able to resist those dark, wide eyes and so he had agreed. Nothing had happened, he hadn't even plucked up the courage to kiss her, or tell her that he had feelings for her that went far beyond friendship. She had felt good lying in his arms, his hands placed carefully on the middle of her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through her silk nightdress. He had drifted off to sleep then, drifted off into the best sleep he had had in months. Steffon hadn't even woken in the night and she told him in the morning that that was the first time he had slept right through. He made his excuses to leave when she went to nurse her son and that was it. He didn't see her again after that. She didn't even come out to say goodbye to anyone else and he wondered if he had inadvertently offended her. Damn it all.

"She's above my station," he finally said.

"Too good for a Prince?" Aegon asked him.

"I'm not a Prince Aegon, brother or not I'm still a bastard," Jon said bitterly.

"You know I can change that," he said quietly.

"I don't want your pity," Jon snapped back.

"It isn't pity," Aegon insisted, "you're my family … my brother, why shouldn't I give you a true name?"

"What would it matter? People would still know," he said.

"Would that matter to her?" Aegon countered him.

"I don't know," Jon shook his head, his eyes firmly on his entwined hands.

"If she'd rather someone else then she isn't worth it," he said firmly.

"You don't know that," Jon shook his head.

"Who is she?" Aegon asked him softly.

"It doesn't matter," Jon jumped to his feet, "I'm going to bed," he said abruptly, stamping away before Aegon could protest.

He sighed heavily as he watched him retreat to his tent, raising his flagon to his lips and taking a long draught from it. Robb continued scratching away at his letter opposite him, wondering if he should say anything to Aegon. If he spoke up he would have to admit he had been listening in. If he didn't speak up though Jon could potentially miss out on his chance at true happiness. He sighed heavily and set his quill down, fixing his eyes on Aegon.

"Margaery Tyrell," he said then and Aegon snapped his eyes to his.

"What?" Aegon frowned.

"The woman," Robb elaborated, "Margaery Tyrell"

"Are you serious?" Aegon asked him, his brows raised.

"Dany put me on to it," Robb told him, "I thought she was jesting at first but then I noticed how much time he's spent in her chambers. Dany said Margaery speaks about him a lot … that she never imagined anyone being so good with Steffon"

"Oh Jon," Aegon sighed and Robb smiled despite himself.

"You did say you wanted someone you could trust at Storm's End," Robb reminded him.

"I did," Aegon agreed, "why is nothing ever simple?"

"Give him a name and it is simple," Robb raised his brows.

"Perhaps," Aegon took another sip of ale, "but first he has to agree to take the name."

It was Robb's turn to sigh then and he turned his own eyes to the tent Jon was sleeping in. He would bet his claim to Winterfell that his brother was in there brooding and nowhere near sleep. When he stood up Aegon looked at him quizzically; "it can't hurt to try," he said by way of explanation and the fair man nodded wearily at him before he made his way towards Jon's tent. Jon called moodily for him to come in after he called his name several times and he steeled himself before doing as he was bid. As predicted Jon was brooding over the table and Robb could see parchment in front of him and a quill lay next to it and he knew instantly that Jon was trying and failing to write to Margaery.

"Tell her the truth," Robb said quietly.

"What good will that do me?" Jon asked, not even questioning how he knew.

"She might surprise you," Robb replied.

"She deserves better than me," Jon muttered.

"Who's better than you?" Robb asked him incredulously, "You would love her and take care of her and be a wonderful father to her son. What more could she possibly want Jon? I won't let you do this, you have always sold yourself short but I won't have it anymore. Take the name Aegon is offering you Jon and tell Margaery how you feel, claim her as your own or you will regret it forever. You deserve this Jon … take it …"

"You give me too much credit Robb," he said, shaking his head.

"You don't give yourself enough," Robb shot back, "no one's perfect Jon … but you're a damn sight better than most. Take the name …"

"What if it isn't enough?" Jon asked him fearfully, turning to face him.

"What?" Robb frowned.

"What if I take the name, what if Aegon names me a Prince and it isn't enough? What if she doesn't want me either way?" he demanded.

"That's a risk you have to take Jon," Robb said softly, "there's only one person who can answer that and the only way of knowing is if you ask her"

"I'm scared," Jon confessed.

"I know," Robb nodded, "I know how scared I was when I went to ask father for Dany's hand, how scared I was when I asked her but … it was all worth it in the end. You have to take that risk and ask her Jon or you will regret it forever I can promise you that much"

"Thank you Robb," he said quietly then.

"Write to her," Robb urged him, "then talk to Aegon"

"I will," Jon nodded, swallowing hard.

"Good," Robb clapped him on the back, "he's right you know … if she doesn't want you then she's not worth it."

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down! Hope you all enjoyed and I'll have another up for you soon.

:)


	48. Endings and Beginnings

**A/N: **New chapter, up a day earlier than originally planned as I had a very productive weekend! Hope you all enjoy.

**Guest: **Thank you so much, hope you enjoy this one. As for how many chapters ... right now I would roughly estimate about 75, but it could go longer, I'm really not sure but you're right - longer than my other fics!

Right-ho! On with the chapter!

:)

* * *

**Endings and Beginnings**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Cersei was a vision as she took her final journey towards the steps of the Red Keep. She could see the walls above which her head would soon be skewered but oddly she felt no fear. Her hands didn't shake and her steps didn't falter as she walked calmly and carefully through the deafeningly silent crowds. No one whispered ill things to her nor any words of comfort. Everything was quiet aside from the steady tapping of her footsteps. She lifted her head high and met the eyes of her replacement, stood on the steps next to Stannis with her hand placed obediently on his arm. It had been her who had sent her own handmaiden's to Cersei and had them bathe and cleanse her. She had even sent her a crimson gown embroidered with gold, something truly grand and truly Lannister. Cersei hadn't been able to help but send her thanks to the new Queen. She didn't know why the girl had done her such a kindness but she was grateful to her. Cersei had always been a proud and fierce woman and she wanted to die as such. She wanted to die in all her glory, face her end with no fear, not cowering and filthy and dressed in rags.

Stannis look stonily furious as she approached him, she could almost imagine the nerve jumping in his temple. It was a nerve that Robert used to set off each time he drank too much in the presence of his brother. Cersei wondered if his sweet little wife would pay for her kindness towards her later. Stannis had always been cold, predictable, but Cersei had sensed something in him the few times she had been in his presence that suggested to her that he was far more dangerous than he had always appeared. Oddly she found herself more worried for the girl who had replaced her than she did for herself in that moment. She met the girl's eyes then and thought she saw the faintest of smiles grace her face. Cersei came to a stop then at the bottom of the steps and swept into a low curtsey as was expected of her in her condemnation. Stannis' eyes were still ice when she straightened up again and he turned them from her to the hooded man lurking in the shadows and she knew her ending was coming.

Cersei lifted her skirts then and gracefully turned to face the crowd, seeing that a block had been placed just behind her. She swallowed hard then and conjured up the images of her beautiful children. Gods she hoped Jaime had them safe or he would have more to fear from death than anything in this world could do to him. When she knelt she felt the presence of the King's justice at her side and she turned her head a fraction to see the great sword gleaming in his hands. She took a deep breath then and placed her hands on either side of the block, keeping her head held high and waiting for him to say the words that would seal her fate.

"In the name of the King, Stannis Baratheon, first of his name, you are sentenced to die. Do you have any final words?"

"I love my children," she said then, her voice calm and clear; "if you would not pray for me, pray for them. My innocent children."

She lay her head down on the smooth block then, feeling it dry beneath her, so different from those dreams that had haunted her so long ago. Her neck didn't lay down against her children's blood, her twin's blood. They were far from the Capitol and far from Stannis' reach. She closed her eyes then and conjured up all the happy memories that she had of them all. She didn't even feel the blow. She heard it. Expected the pain that never came and saw no more.

* * *

Stannis barely twitched as her golden head rolled from her shoulders, the blood pouring against the stones as red as her gown, soaking her long, blond strands. Lannister to the very end. His lip twitched into a half smirk then and he turned away, pulling Erinne with him so the sight would not upset her in her condition. He had been irritated with her when she had sent her handmaidens and finery to Cersei Lannister but he had said nothing of it. It was just the sort of thing his kind and gentle hearted wife would do. He felt a slight stab of regret then as they walked in step through the entrance hall of the keep. Perhaps if he was younger, less embittered. Perhaps if he smiled more and showered her with more affection they could have a truly happy marriage. He knew Erinne put on a show as much as he did. She may name him her love but he knew he wasn't. How could she love him when he was incapable of showing any affection? He looked sideways at her then, seeing her free hand resting on her stomach gently and he sighed heavily. This could be his chance. He had his throne, the beautiful wife with an heir in her belly. Could he not just enjoy it? Could he not at least try?

"This is a new beginning for us my love," he said then, stopping them and turning her gently to face him, seeing the slight look of surprise on her face.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked him softly.

"We have everything a man and a woman could possibly desire. I mean for us to enjoy it, I want for use to be happy … truly happy," he stated.

"Stannis …" she started but he leant in to press his lips to hers before she could say another word.

"A new beginning," he reiterated when he pulled away and she could do nothing but nod and smile.

* * *

_Casterly Rock_

* * *

The sun was hanging low in the sky as Jeyne made her way out across the top of the moorland, pulling her furs more tightly around her as she strode as quickly as she could towards the cliffs. Tia had come to her and told her that Jaime had left the castle and she had hurried out to find him at once. Cersei was set to die today and she knew he would not take it well no matter how many times he claimed to her that his sister was nothing to him. She almost broke into a run then when she saw him stood right on the edge of the cliffs, unable to stop herself from shouting out his name. He turned after a moment and she noted the faint look of surprise that crossed his features as she hurried towards him.

"What are you doing out here? It's freezing," he said when she reached him.

"I was worried," she panted, clutching at her chest where her heart was pounding.

"Did you think I was going to throw myself off?" he raised his brows at her.

"I don't know what I thought," she shook her head, "but given your recent behaviour would it really be so hard for me to imagine the worst?"

"No," he said, instantly looking ashamed of himself, "I've been a nightmare haven't I?"

"You have every reason to be upset Jaime," she soothed him.

"She'll be dead by now," he stated calmly, "down in the seven hells with our father … that ought to be an interesting reunion. Perhaps I should throw myself off and join them?"

"Don't you dare," she almost snarled, her hand grabbing his wrist so hard her nails pierced his skin.

"I was jesting," he said but she only slackened her grip slightly.

"It's not funny," she snapped, "Tommen and Myrcella have no one else! Do you not think they've suffered enough?!"

"How am I supposed to tell them that their mother is dead?" he turned to meet her eyes, "She wasn't a monster to them … she was everything"

"They will hear it eventually, the servants are gossiping already. Best you tell them before they hear it in whispers," she told him.

"I know," he said heavily, casting his eyes back to the Rock.

"Would you like me to be there?" she asked him quietly then.

"Please," he said, swallowing hard, the children adored Jeyne, perhaps her presence would at least make it all a bit easier.

"Shall we go now?" she asked tentatively and he nodded.

Her hand slipped from his wrist then but he took it in his own before she had a chance to move it away entirely and she frowned slightly but said nothing. They walked in step then, Jaime trying to work out what he would say to Tommen and Myrcella, his grip tight on Jeyne's hand. Now he had it in his he was almost afraid to let go, as if she was the only real thing keeping him together. Without her he wasn't sure if he would have been able to prevent himself from falling apart at the seams. He glanced sideways at her then and saw her own eyes trained on the Rock. He hadn't yet told her about the message he had received from Tyrion and the fact that he would soon be marching the armies of the Westerlands towards Maidenpool where he would be greeted by Aegon Targaryen. Jaime could already imagine how well that meeting was going to go. Tyrion seemed to have a plan though and Jaime had only ever been able to trust him.

He was unsure yet whether or not to take Jeyne with him. If he did she could be handed back into northern hands and more than likely be returned to Winterfell. He knew she must want that but he himself could not deny that he would much rather she stay at the Rock with him. He swallowed then as they approached the walls. Damn it. One thing he never thought he would have to confront were feelings for any other woman but Cersei. She had given him enough complications for a lifetime but then … there was not much complicated about Jeyne beyond where she originated. He shook his head again. Now was not the time. Now he had to go in there and tell Tommen and Myrcella that their mother was dead.

* * *

"There is something I must tell you both," Jaime said awkwardly as the children gazed up at him with their wide innocent eyes.

"What is it uncle Jaime?" Myrcella asked him.

"I have news of your mother," he said then, swallowing hard and looking to where Jeyne stood behind them and seeing her nod encouragingly.

"Is she coming here soon?" Tommen asked.

"No," he shook his head, "I'm afraid … the Gods had need of her, she has gone to be with Joffrey and your father"

"She's dead," Myrcella whispered then.

"I'm sorry little one," Jaime said, his eyes on hers as understanding crept into them.

"She isn't coming," Tommen said quietly then, his green orbs filling with tears.

"No," Jaime shook his head, biting down on his own lip, "but I promise … I will look after you now"

"You won't leave us will you uncle Jaime?" Myrcella asked him, a tear trickling down her cheek.

"Of course not," he said, coming to kneel before him.

They both lurched forward off the sofa and into his arms then and he held them as tightly as he could while they cried, fighting back his own tears. He glanced at Jeyne once but saw she had turned away to compose herself and so he buried his head back between those of Tommen and Myrcella and just held them as their shaking bodies slowly began to still. He rubbed his hand up and down their backs then, Tommen relaxing as he soothed him, Myrcella taking a little longer to calm herself down. When she did though she pulled away from him with a look of determination in her shining eyes that reminded him so strongly of Cersei that he almost broke down himself. Tommen moved away then and rubbed his eyes determinedly, Jaime managing a small smile for them both.

"Will mother be happy with the Gods?" Tommen asked then.

"I'm sure she will, although I know she will miss you both terribly," he replied.

Tommen nodded slowly then and Jaime breathed a sigh of relief that he had been so easily placated. He knew that there would still be more trouble and upset ahead of them and that they would both miss Cersei but they were young enough to weather it. To survive it just as he and his twin had done when their mother had been taken. He swallowed hard then and glanced to Jeyne again for guidance.

"How about we read a story before bed?" she asked them kindly and they both nodded automatically, trailing round to her.

He mouthed his thanks to her and she smiled reassuringly as she ushered them out of the door. He was glad she had taken them away, if they had stayed a moment longer he wasn't sure whether he would have been able to stop himself from breaking down as they had. Deep down he knew Cersei was dead because of him. It didn't matter how he chose to justify it in his mind, the fact remained that he had left her there knowing that Stannis would kill her. He swallowed hard then before sitting heavily down on the sofa the children had just vacated, finally letting his own tears spill out.

* * *

_White Harbour_

* * *

Aegon looked up as the shout came through the camp, getting to his feet at once when he saw Lord Stark and Tyrion Lannister exchange a glance before rising to their own feet. The shout meant only one thing, the ships from Dorne had finally landed. They would meet here and discuss the best plan of attack for the Capitol before the ships took to the water again, this time likely with the crews a mix of Dornish, Northmen and Gold Company aboard them. Aegon's hand shook slightly as he waited agitatedly for the small party to arrive. The common men he imagined would be staying aboard the ships but right now they were the least of his concerns. He was set to come face to face with his mother's family and he didn't have the slightest idea of how well or badly it would all go. When the banners came into view he swallowed hard and stepped forward, the man at the helm of the approaching party meeting his eyes for a moment before seemingly taking in every inch of him.

"Your Grace," he finally said, dropping into a short bow.

"Your Grace, this is your uncle, Prince Oberyn of Dorne," Tyrion introduced him.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Aegon said.

"We have met before," Oberyn said, his expression unreadable, "but you were but a babe at the breast"

"Then it has been too long," Aegon said and his uncle's mouth twitched up in spite of itself, "perhaps we can catch up over some wine"

"We brought a cask," Oberyn said, "from my brother Doran, with his apology. He is unable to travel, confined to a chair, he felt he would have been of little use to you"

"I accept his apology gladly, perhaps I will have the good fortune to meet him at a later time," Aegon replied to which Oberyn inclined his head.

"Perhaps we could speak alone your Grace?" he asked then, his eyes scanning the area and seeing many fixed intently on their meeting.

"I would welcome it," Aegon said, gesturing to the tent used for council meetings.

Oberyn followed after him, snapping his fingers for one of his men to bring the cask of wine. They hauled it after the two men, setting it down in the vast tent before bowing lowly and backing away again. Aegon tried to breathe evenly as Oberyn's eyes raked searchingly over him again before his uncle finally looked away and made to open the cask of wine. He himself brought forward two glasses to be filled and once they were they raised them to one another before taking a long drink.

"Please … sit," Aegon gestured to one of the chairs and Oberyn did as he was bid.

"You look like your father," he stated then as Aegon sat down opposite him.

"I believe so," Aegon agreed, "from what I have heard of him"

"You know more of him than you do of your mother I would wager," Oberyn said.

"I would have to agree," Aegon said quietly.

"She was fiercely protective … of you and your sister. She never let any wet nurse nor maids near you, she was determined to do it all herself. When Lord Tyrion first came to us and told us you lived, that you had been swapped I could not believe it. I could not believe that Elia let you from her sights for a moment," he said, frowning slightly; "but I had time enough to think on the way here … seeing you now has only confirmed it to me. Elia would have done anything for her children … even letting one of you go it would seem"

"I only wish the same could have been done for my sister," Aegon said softly, "but then I suppose that would have still been the death of another innocent in her place"

"Sadly yes," Oberyn agreed, taking another sip of wine.

"I was unsure if you would believe me true," he confessed then.

"I didn't … at first," Oberyn finally smiled.

"I would imagine you wouldn't be here if you had any doubts," Aegon returned the gesture.

"Doran made the decision to support your claim, I am merely following his orders," Oberyn said.

"I understand," Aegon said, disappointment slightly evident in his voice.

"As I said before, now I have seen you … my own doubts are gone," he reassured then.

"I will get justice for my mother," Aegon said suddenly.

"I know you will," Oberyn nodded, his expression hard, "and I will be right there at your side when it is delivered to that monster."

They fell silent then and both turned their attention to the wine. Aegon instinctively knew it would take him a lot longer to build trust and some kind of rapport with Oberyn than it had done to build it with Jon and Dany. He thought of Robb then and snorted slightly, Oberyn may even be tougher to crack than him. His uncle looked at him quizzically then but he just shook his head and smirked for a moment before draining his glass. He stood to pour another then and Oberyn watched him carefully. He had been wary of madness and still on the lookout for it despite how welcoming and eloquent Aegon seemed to be. One could never be too careful after all.

"Oh," Jon's voice came from the entranceway then, "I didn't realise; I'll go"

"No," Aegon beckoned him in, "come … the two of you should meet"

"As you say," Jon said warily, coming properly into the tent.

"This is my uncle, Prince Oberyn of Dorne," he began, "and this, is my brother, Jon"

"Brother?" Oberyn raised his brows, eyes snapping to the new arrival.

"Well … half-brother," Aegon corrected and the pieces fell into place for Oberyn.

"Stark," he said in understanding, his eyes suddenly cold and his expression harsh.

"And blameless," Aegon said in an undertone.

"Of course," Oberyn said after a moment.

"What did you need to see me about Jon?" Aegon turned to his brother then.

"Dragonstone," he replied and Oberyn saw his nephew's free hand ball into a fist.

"Dragonstone?" Oberyn repeated, "I thought we were taking King's Landing"

"We are," Aegon said through gritted teeth and Jon looked instantly wary.

"Then why do you need to discuss Dragonstone?" he persisted.

"Jon is going to Dragonstone … it's a personal matter," Aegon said.

"Am I not kin?" Oberyn asked him.

"There's a woman being held there," he said after a moment.

"Aah," Oberyn grinned widely, "personal … I see …"

"She's carrying my child and they have imprisoned her. If we don't get her back they will take the child as a … a …" Aegon stumbled over the word.

"Sacrifice," Jon said quietly then and the grin fell from Oberyn's face at once.

"And you're going? To get her back?" he questioned Jon.

"I volunteered," Jon confirmed.

"What's the plan?" he asked.

"That's what I was hoping to discuss with Aegon," Jon frowned.

"It will have to be good, is Stannis' witch still at Dragonstone?" he continued.

"She's the one holding Val," Aegon said stiffly.

"There is magic in King's blood," Oberyn stated then and his nephew grimaced.

"She'll not get any from any child of mine," he snarled.

"Obviously it will have to be done by boat, there will need to be some kind of distraction … some weaving of stories," Oberyn went on.

"Obviously," he said distractedly, pouring another measure of wine.

"You know I know many a tale," Oberyn smiled then.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked and Aegon turned to look at him.

"You strike me as an honest man Jon … not one who enjoys to lie, to … fabricate, weave tales and deceive," Oberyn said; "I however enjoy the thrill of the fight, not just with the sword but with the tongue as well. Words can be as powerful as steel if you know how to use them and it just so happens I am an expert"

"No wonder Tyrion went to Dorne," Jon muttered then and Oberyn grinned.

"What are you saying?" Aegon asked him then.

"Send me with Jon, I will get your girl back to you," Oberyn said.

"She isn't my girl," he avoided Jon's eyes, "I made a reckless mistake with her … I am betrothed to another"

"Even better," Oberyn smiled again, "there is a touch of Dorne in you after all"

"What would you have us do?" Jon asked.

"I will distract the witch, you will spring the girl," he said.

"It can't be that easy," Aegon shook his head.

"Sometimes the simplest plans are the best … you either trust me, or you don't. But believe me your Grace, I can be very, very convincing. What do you say?" he raised a brow.

"I'm trusting you with this," Aegon said after a long moment, "I want Val and my brother back alive do you hear me?"

"I give you my word," Oberyn promised him.

* * *

_The Eyrie_

* * *

Lysa flung herself into his arms at once as soon as the double doors were opened and he held her back as she almost squeezed the life out of him, exclaiming his name over and over. This was a better welcome that even he had hoped for. He knew that Lysa may still carry a flame for him but he had had no idea that it would still be burning this brightly. There were embarrassed mutterings from around the hall then and he gently prised Lysa away from him, seeing her eyes shining with delight when he stepped back to look into her eyes.

"I can't believe you're really here Petyr, you finally came for me," she whispered.

"I would have come long ago had I been able," he said smoothly and she practically simpered.

"You're here now, that is what matters … and there is no time to waste," she clapped her hands together in glee.

"Whatever do you mean my sweet?" he asked.

"The Septon! I will call him at once … and then you … you can put another son in me," she lowered her voice towards the end and he forced a smile.

"Shouldn't we organise something more grand?" he asked her.

"I have been waiting nearly twenty years to have you again Petyr, I won't waste another moment," she answered, her chest heaving.

"Then by all means … call him," he smiled, seeing no other alternative.

Petyr had known it would come down to this and was well prepared. At least as Lysa's husband he would have control of the Vale and its forces. He was yet to decide how best to use them but he was leaning towards the undead Aegon Targaryen. It would make sense for the Vale to march for him given that the North and the Riverlands had already declared for him. He thought of Ned Stark then and had to fight back a grimace. If all had gone to plan at the Capitol then he would be dead by now but no, the incompetence of the Gold Cloaks had allowed him to escape. He had hoped that Stannis might have finished him off at Dragonstone but he had escaped those clutches as well. Still, the third time would perhaps be the charm. The man would have plenty of battles to fight on the way to the Capitol and Petyr was almost sure he would not be able to survive them all. He forced a smile for Lysa then, she would become a dead weight around his neck when Stark fell but he would have to deal with that when the time came. For now he would content himself with being her devoted husband and bed her with willingness. With enough wine down his throat it should not be too hard for him to convince himself that she was Catelyn.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you guys enjoyed, will post another one up for you on Friday.

:)


	49. Stricken

**A/N: **New chapter as promised, hope you all enjoy!

**Kathrine: **Thank you! More for you right here, hope you like it!

Also, thank you to the **Guest **who posted a new review on chapter 5 - if you've stuck with the story this far then awesome! And you should see that Jon has indeed got designs on a noblewoman.

:)

* * *

**Stricken**

* * *

_Seagard_

* * *

"Damn it all he's heavy," one of the men grumbled.

"Stop complaining, we're almost there," another said.

"You think she'll take him?" the first questioned.

"She has no choice, we have the coin," the other replied.

They were approaching a farm stead just outside the town, dragging Theon between them as he slipped in and out of consciousness. A fever seemed to have taken hold of him but his leg was at least looking a little better. Hopefully here he could get the help he needed before taking off back to Winterfell. Where they would take the _Black Wind _now that Asha was gone they didn't know but one thing they knew for sure was that they could not go back to the Iron Islands. Their heads would adorn spikes before they had even stepped back ashore. Best they stick to raiding and then perhaps settle somewhere along the mainland when they had made their fortunes. Perhaps when Balon passed on they could return to Pyke. The door to the stead opened then and the two men grinned at the exasperated look on the woman's face, knowing she would do as they asked even if she would no doubt grumble about it for an age beforehand.

"Come on Shara, we know how this always goes, let's forget the protests and move to the part where you help us out and cook us a good meal," the first man said.

"I thought I'd seen the last of you," the woman narrowed her eyes, "lucky for you my husband's away"

"Lucky indeed," he winked.

"Hands to yourself," she snapped, "who's this?"

"Theon Greyjoy, he needs your help but he's in no fit state to ask for it himself," he said.

"Come in," she said, looking troubled, "tell me everything."

* * *

They had gone once they had eaten their fill, leaving her with a fever stricken Theon Greyjoy who was now laid up in her son's old room as she sponged his skin with icy cold water. The heat coming from him was intense and there was a frown fixed on her face as she worked. She had yet to look under the bandages and examine the wound on his leg they had told her had been done by an arrow. Damn it. She had told them last time that she was getting too old to be helping them with their schemes. It was worth it for the coin though, and for news of her family. They were still on Pyke, her father still going strong despite his age, they had told her that her mother had been ill but that she had made a swift recovery. Shara wasn't surprised, her mother was a hardy woman; it would take more than a chill to send her to the Drowned God.

Looking at Theon made her realise exactly how long it had been since she had seen her home, he had been a small child when he was brought to the North and she had left at the same time. She had been a flighty young thing, a girl of nineteen, when Balon had started his rebellion. Most Ironborn had known he couldn't succeed but they had supported him anyway. When the men had come from the mainland they were ruthless, sparing no one who stood in their way. Her father was almost felled in front of her but she had thrown herself between him and the man threatening his life. Daron, she had discovered his name later as he pressed her up against the wall and shown her pleasure she hadn't known could exist. When he asked her to go back to the mainland with him she couldn't refuse, her father had denounced her and thrown her belongings from the house. She had gone anyway though and she had been here on the outskirts of Seagard ever since. Daron was a good man, a good husband and father and she had lived a contented life here for many years helping the Ironborn with whatever they needed whenever they washed up on the shores.

She had never expected to be nursing Theon Greyjoy back to health though so she could send him back to Winterfell and his wife. He stirred under the cool sponge then, his eyelids fluttering and a groan leaving his mouth. She moved the sponge away from him then as he opened his eyes and almost flinched away from her in surprise.

"Who are you?" he asked her groggily.

"My name is Shara, the boys have left you here in my care," she told him.

"Where am I?" he asked then, his head moving from side to side.

"Just outside Seagard," she answered.

"Seagard …" he repeated, "I'm back …"

"Yes," she said, smiling despite herself at his relieved tone.

"I need to go," he said then, trying to get himself up.

"Not so fast!" she said sharply, pushing him back down.

"You don't understand, I have to get back … my wife, I need my wife!" he protested.

"You are in no state to travel all the way to Winterfell," she told him firmly, "you will stay here and rest – if it helps you can send word of where you are"

"Yes," he agreed after considering her for a long moment.

"Good," she said, relieved he wasn't fighting her on it, "now, let's take a look at this leg …"

* * *

_White Harbour_

* * *

Jon tugged the hood up over his head as he boarded the ship, pulling his cloak further around him as he stepped on deck and took in his surroundings. Oberyn stepped on board just behind him then and called the men to be ready to set sail. The crew was made up of a mix of Dornishmen, Northmen and a few from the Gold Company. Griff was also coming with them despite his protests. He had wanted to stay with Aegon but Aegon wanted someone he could trust implicitly to keep an eye on Oberyn once they arrived at Dragonstone. He wasn't yet sure what to make of his uncle and his true feelings towards Jon and he had wanted his brother to have extra security. Jon had almost felt Aegon's fear when his brother had gripped him in a fierce embrace on the docks and he had had to force himself to smile and reassure him that everything would be alright. He wasn't relishing going to Dragonstone and neither was he relishing being away from his family. With a jolt he realised that this would be the first time he had parted from Aegon since they had found one another. His heart panged dully then as the shout was given to pull up the anchor, the sails raising up and flapping wildly in the wind as the men hauled on the ropes. If the Gods were good the wind would remain favourable and they would reach Dragonstone quickly. Once there Jon could only hope that Oberyn was a good as he claimed to be.

"Is this your first time aboard a ship?" Oberyn asked him as they began to move.

"Aye," Jon nodded, "and hopefully not my last"

"My nephew seemed rather concerned for your safety," he stated.

"Aegon's my brother," Jon almost snapped, "we are concerned for one another, he is in as much danger as I am"

"More so if the tales of this red witch are true," Oberyn said.

"She has magic that much is true," Jon said, "it is thought she killed Renly Baratheon"

"On the orders of his brother," Oberyn shook his head.

"Aye," Jon nodded, swallowing hard.

"I do not always see eye to eye with my brother, Doran. He is a much more cautious man than I, it frustrates me at times … but killing him? That is not a sin I would commit," he said.

"No," Jon agreed, glancing back to see they had already made steady progress from the harbour.

"When did you discover the truth?" Oberyn asked him then and he didn't need to ask what he meant.

"Not long ago," he answered him.

"You must have felt betrayed," Oberyn said quietly.

"I did," Jon agreed, "but I overreacted, I couldn't see it clearly at the time that all they did was to protect me"

"You are still close to the Starks?" he questioned.

"Of course," Jon met his eyes, "they are my family, without them I would be nothing"

"And now you're a Prince," Oberyn smiled slightly, his gaze searching.

"If Aegon insists," Jon muttered.

"You took the name," he raised his brows expectantly.

"Yes," Jon said evenly, "but not for the title"

"You being named true makes you his heir does it not?" Oberyn pressed him.

"I hadn't thought about it," Jon said honestly.

"Truly?" Oberyn looked sceptical, "If anything were to befall him you would be King"

"Nothing will befall him, the throne is Aegon's, I would never seek it," Jon snapped.

"Even if he were gone?" he asked.

"Especially if he were gone," Jon said, his stare hard, "he's my brother. Of all that has come from the mess that is my birth finding out that he and Dany are my kin has been the best of it. What throne could compare to that?"

"You're a Stark alright," Oberyn chuckled slightly then and Jon relaxed.

"Aye," he agreed after a moment.

"A good man," Oberyn concluded, "my apologies for pushing you … it is just my way. I believe men reveal more truth when they are riled"

"Are you satisfied now?" Jon asked him.

"Quite," he smiled, "now if you'll excuse me, there is a vat of wine and a beautiful woman waiting for me below deck …"

Jon watched him saunter away and sighed heavily. He had no idea how he would occupy himself on this journey. Oberyn had offered to bring a woman aboard for him as well but he had refused, there was only one woman he wanted and she was leagues away from him. He had written the letter in the end but he wasn't sure if she would have deciphered his meaning. He had been vague to say the least but he hoped that she would be able to read between his words and see how much he cared for her and her son. Even with his bastard status removed Jon was still convinced that he would never be good enough for her, that she would want better. She may not be a maid any longer but she would still be the Lady of Storm's End until her son took a wife. Beautiful. Rich. Perfect. Of course she would want better than him, what had he been thinking?

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Margaery traced her fingers over his name as she came to the end of the letter for what felt like the thousandth time. The words were guarded and so like Jon but she read his meaning as well as she could always read him when he was with her, when she looked into his eyes. He hadn't mentioned Aegon giving him a true name by accident. He had said he missed her, that he thought about her and Steffon every day and that he wished he could be with her at that moment so that he could tell her everything in person. _Everything. _Her heart skipped at that. She had known she would marry again but she had expected Aegon to choose one of his favoured men to reward him for service. She had never expected that he would give consent for his own brother to marry her. In her mind she had always assumed that Jon would be destined for someone else, some high born maid who was deserving of him. Margaery wasn't stupid, she knew she was still young and beautiful but she was also spoiled and mother to another man's son. Steffon would be the Lord of Storm's End, not any son she would have by her next husband. She sighed then. That didn't seem to matter to Jon, one thing she knew about him was that he was not power hungry. If she was honest with herself she knew that it wouldn't matter to him that it was Renly's son who claimed the land and the titles and not his own. Deep down she knew that Jon could be a father to Steffon even though he was not of his blood.

She conjured up the memory of Jon holding him for the first time then, the way he had stroked his fingers so tenderly down his tiny cheeks to wipe away his angry tears. Gods it was a sweet sight and every time since that he had held her son in his arms she had melted a little more until she could no longer stand a day going by without him coming to her. It wasn't just because he was so good with Steffon, it was because of the way he treated her, always showing so much concern towards her welfare and never letting her wait on him when he came to see her. He was always determined that she should sit and relax any time he came to see her and she marvelled over the fact that they never seemed to run out of things to say to one another. Even when they sat together in silence if Steffon had just gone off to sleep it was never awkward, just being in his presence was enough for her and she was always comfortable in it. She read through the letter one more time then and finally allowed herself to believe that she may just be able to win Jon after all.

* * *

"Bed rest," Maester Luwin told him as he descended the stairs.

"Is the child alright?" Ser Ralf asked him.

"The child is fine, it is Adele I am worried for," he replied, his face grave.

"Every time she sleeps she is awakened by dreams, I don't know what to do," Ser Ralf shook his head.

"I dare not give her anything lest it harms the child," the Maester told him.

"Sometimes I wish she were not with child at all," he confessed, "how can I be that monstrous? Wish away the one thing keeping her going?"

"You're worried for your daughter," the Maester soothed him.

"Damn Theon Greyjoy … it is not enough he leaves her but he leaves her with his child so she will never be able to move on from him," Ser Ralf almost snarled.

"I do not think Theon had much choice," the Maester said gently but firmly.

"I know," he dragged his hand distractedly through his hair, "I just wish I could tell her he was coming back … I wish I could promise her that"

"I would advise against such a thing," the Maester said.

"Would Balon Greyjoy really do away with his only son?" he asked.

"I cannot know that, no one can," the Maester replied and he sighed heavily.

"Thank you Maester Luwin," Ser Ralf said then, managing a small smile.

"Do not hesitate to come for me again should you have need," he implored him then and Ser Ralf nodded to him.

When the door closed behind the Maester he turned his eyes upwards towards the stairs and wondered if he should go up there and see her. Part of him didn't want to because he hated the way she stared so blankly, the way she hardly ever smiled any more. He hated that the light in her seemed to have been snuffed out. Damn Theon Greyjoy. Damn him. Her pining for him had made her sick now and if anything happened to her Theon would wish he were dead if he wasn't already. She had nearly passed out as she had risen up from her chair and Ser Ralf had called for the Maester despite her protests. She had given in when he told her she was risking the baby. The baby seemed to be the only way he could get her to do anything. If she were left to her own devices she would forget to eat or drink he was certain of it. If it weren't for the baby he doubted whether he would have even been able to coax her into it but still part of him wished that the child did not exist.

The guilt gnawed harder at him then and he tried to push away his deplorable thoughts. They would do him no good. Like it or not Adele was pregnant and like it or not he would support her through all of it. He prayed every day that they would get some word of Theon. Good or bad at least Adele would know and she would be able to snap out of her state of limbo. The not knowing was killing her. The not knowing was driving him steadily mad. He just wanted his daughter to be able to smile again, was that really too much to ask? He sighed heavily and went to fix her something to eat. He would feed her himself if he had to.

When he went up to her room with her plate of food she turned her blank eyes on him and his heart felt like it would break. She looked so lost and uncertain, he almost didn't recognise her. Where was his daughter who had always been so spirted and full of laughter? Where was his headstrong girl who had followed her heart and defied him to be with the man she loved? Gods he had been angry with her but she had promised him she was happy. She wasn't happy now though and that simple fact pierced his heart like a white hot knife.

"I brought you something to eat," he said gently, setting it down next to her.

"I'm not hungry," she said quietly.

"You need to eat Adele, you're not well," he stressed.

"I'm not hungry," she repeated.

"Do you want to lose your child?!" he demanded of her.

"No!" she snapped at him and he saw a glimmer of fire in her eyes for the first time in months.

"Then pull yourself together," he shot back, "and eat"

She looked for a moment as though she might cry and he thought he might have been too harsh on her. Before he could apologise though she had picked up her plate of food and begun tearing at the bread. He tried to keep the look of sheer relief from his face as she swallowed down the bread and cheese before popping the berries into her mouth. She didn't leave a single scrap on the plate and he was glad of it, smiling at her when she place the empty plate down next to her.

"The Maester says you're to rest, your time is near now and he's worried about you," he told her.

"Have you been to the keep today?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said, "no word"

"As ever," she said heavily, chewing slightly on her bottom lip.

"Adele …" he started, not even sure what he could say to her.

"I know what they're thinking," she cut in, "I see the look in their eyes when they see me … they think he has left me willingly. I'm not a fool … they think he has gone back to his whoring ways, that he has abandoned me because he cannot face his responsibility. It's not true," she said fiercely, "I love Theon and I know he loves me … he will come home to us I know it …"

"He will want to come home to the wife he remembers, not her ghost," he said gently.

"Do you think that? Do you think he has abandoned me?!" she demanded.

"No," he shook his head, somehow meeting her eyes, "I'm sure if he could come home he would"

"Then you think he's dead," she said bitterly.

"I didn't say that," he said gently.

"He's not dead," she said defiantly and he saw the glimmer in her eyes again, the sight of it making him dare to hope that she would pull through this.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Melisandre was beyond furious with them. _Beyond. _What had they been thinking the idiots? Why had they not come to her at once? Damn it all if the girl died then she would have nothing, she would have to try and destroy the Targaryen another way. She had banished the Maester, he knew nothing and had done nothing but mumble about her having a chill. She would work on the girl herself. Damn it all. It was imperative that she lived so the child could live. Damn it. She needed that baby. Val began to stir then and she moved forward, placing her hand to her forehead and feeling it still cold and clammy under her touch. She flinched away from her then as her eyes finally opened and Melisandre smiled widely.

"What are you doing?" Val rasped.

"Saving your life," she answered her.

"Why are you doing this to me? Just let me go … what possible use can I be? Just let me go back to the North, this child is a bastard no more … it is no threat to you nor any throne," Val pleaded.

"Silly girl, you have no idea how important that child is," Melisandre said gently.

"What are you talking about?" she almost moaned.

"A King's blood my dear, there is great magic in a King's blood," Melisandre smiled again.

Val's eyes widened at that and she could do nothing but stare at the red woman and she rose gracefully to her feet and glided out of the door. She glanced around wildly then, trying to take in where she was, to see if there was any way that she could get out of this room. Surely it would be easier to escape from a room than a cell? She knew she would be locked in and guarded but there was a window. She pulled herself up then and swung her legs over the bed. They shook as she made her way to the window and she had to grasp hold of the ledge to stop herself from collapsing. She remembered how violently her body had shaken down in the prison then as she begged her guard over and over to let her out. That she was sick. Whatever chill had been upon her had certainly robbed her of her strength and she cursed it, pressing her forehead against the freezing window pane. Gods it was high up. If she broke it the sound would alert the guards and even if she managed to haul herself through it before they came in she would more than likely just tumble to her death.

Perhaps that would be for the best.

No. _No. _She pressed her hand to her stomach then, feeling the slight roundness under her touch as she stared out into the darkness, across the rolling waves, just looking for any sign of a ship bobbing along. She almost snorted then. Aegon couldn't possibly know she was here. No one did. She wondered if this was the Capitol but Aegon had told her about King's Landing and she was almost certain that it was bigger and not an island. She couldn't be sure but she thought this place was an island. Wracking her mind for some clue only made her head spin and she turned from the window to stagger back to the bed. She ran her hands along her stomach and imagined Aegon doing it. Imagined him pressing kisses to her stomach and wondering at the growth of it. She imagined him feeling the baby move through her skin and the look of wonder that would spring up in his beautiful eyes when he felt it.

Tears stung her eyes then as she felt the fluttering motion inside her. The baby was moving but only she could feel it because she was alone and with no prospect of rescue. Gods she wanted Aegon. She wanted to be in his arms so badly. She wanted him to throw open that door and cross to her, scoop her up into his arms and take her away from this nightmare. Take her and their baby away from their nightmare and keep them far from the reach of that red witch. The tears rolled down her cheeks then and she didn't even bother trying to brush them away. Instead she rolled over and buried her head in the pillow to stifle the choking sobs that were coming from her, her heart feeling as though it would split in two.

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down, hope you all enjoyed it. More soon - probably Monday.

:)


	50. Double Crossing

**A/N: **New chapter guys! Hope you enjoy!

**Guest: **Glad you're enjoying Jon and Margaery, sorry she didn't breathe his name but hopefully her feelings came across well enough!

:)

* * *

**Double Crossing**

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

He put his head in his hands as he looked over the reports from the mainland. The northern armies had begun their journey south with the lost Targaryen and news was that the Westerlands were joining them. All that left the North exposed which was just what Balon wanted. The last thing he wanted to do now though was be in his brother's presence. Since Asha's murder and Theon's escape he had descended deeply into a dark place and seemed intent only on plotting revenge. Victarion wasn't entirely sure what his vengeance would consist of but he knew his brother was focused entirely on the North and bringing the Starks to their knees. He supposed if he actually went to speak with him he might garner more information but that was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. Balon had shut himself away with Alannys and at this moment he was unsure which of them was the maddest. Alannys had been half consumed with madness since her two eldest boys were slain but Balon had always taken everything in his stride in his cold and calculating manner. Losing Asha had broken something inside him though and Theon's escape had sent him into a rage. Victarion privately didn't think that taking the North and wreaking vengeance on the Starks would make anything easier to bear but he knew better than to bring it up. Best he kept quiet as he always did. Quiet and obedient. He would send a messenger to Balon with news from the mainland, he had no desire to see his brother in the state he was now. If that made him a craven then so be it.

The pulling of swords drew his attention then and he snapped his head to the door, his blood seemingly turning to ice in his veins when he saw the reason for the commotion. He had hoped this day would never come. He had prayed to the drowned God every day since he had knelt in the sand with blood coating his knuckles that this day would never come. He should have known better. His brother should have known better. This would mean death.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he snarled.

"I was summoned," Euron smirked, his fingers lightly stroking the hilt of his sword.

"You were banished," Victarion stated.

"And our dear brother has seen fit to recall me," he said.

"Liar," Victarion spat.

"Ask him yourself," Euron raised his brows.

"Why would he summon you back?! You were banished for what you did!" he snapped.

"He summoned me back because he wants to wreak merry hell on the North and he knows who is best placed to do it," Euron told him.

"Bastard," Victarion hissed under his breath.

"You and I worked well enough last time brother, why not again?" Euron asked him.

"You know why!" Victarion went for his sword.

"Enough!" Balon's voice came from the doorway and he paused at once, staring at his elder brother accusingly but he looked unabashed.

"Why?" he asked him quietly.

"Because I need a man who can bring the North to its knees, do that Euron and your banishment is lifted," Balon stated.

"Thank you brother," Euron smiled in satisfaction and Victarion glared at him, hatred pounding through his veins.

* * *

_Seagard_

* * *

Theon was bored. Bored and brooding. His leg wasn't healing the way it should and Shara had warned him that if it was not looking better the next time she checked under the bandages that she would have to cauterize it. He did not like the sound of that. She was out tending to the animals at the moment, he could hear her through the open window whistling tunelessly as the chickens clucked and flapped around her. He closed his eyes and tried to take comfort from the sounds of normality and not let his mind wander to everything he was missing. Shara had sent the letter to Adele a few days ago when she had finally had a cause to go into Seagard itself. She had promised him that one of the best ravens had been sent, she had given extra coin to ensure it. Theon hoped she was telling the truth and that Adele would soon know that he was alive at least and that he wanted nothing more than to be back with her. He wanted to be in her arms and hear her tell him that she forgave him for leaving her, he wanted her to comfort him and tell him it wasn't his fault that Asha was gone. He swallowed hard then as he thought of his sister, the bravest woman he had ever seen. She had faced her end with such courage that it only served to make him feel even worse. She had died for him. That was something he would never be able to escape no matter how fast he ran.

He forced his mind away from her then as tears began to sting his eyes, wrenching them open and conjuring up Adele's image in her place. Her smile. Her eyes. Her soft touch and her warm embrace. Gods he missed her. He tried not to think of the hell he had no doubt put her through. He tried not to think about the fact that if all had gone as it should that he would be a father in little under a month. She would be without him, he had accepted it now that he would not be able to get to her in time even if his leg miraculously healed overnight. It would be a tough ride back to Winterfell and Shara had already told him that he would be a fool to attempt it alone. He could only hope that a few men could be spared to come down and escort him back. Surely Ser Ralf could muster some men? Surely he would want to get him back to Winterfell and back to Adele? Gods his head was pounding and he couldn't stand much more of the torture of being away from her. Being here alone just filled his head with dark thoughts that he could not escape no matter how hard he tried to push them to the back of his mind.

"Let's look at this leg shall we?" Shara's voice came from the door and he grimaced at her.

"If you must," he muttered and she smiled wryly as she crossed to the bed and pulled back the covers.

She said nothing as she carefully rolled up his breeches and unwound the bandage and Theon looked firmly away from her, not wanting to see her face when she set eyes on it. He would know at once if it was bad news if he saw her face and he didn't want to face it. Perhaps that made him craven but he could not care less in that moment as he fixed his eyes firmly on a spider's web in the corner of the ceiling. The spider was missing. He wondered vaguely where it had gone before Shara's sigh brought his attention firmly to her and had him turning his head slowly to look at her.

"Please don't," he said weakly.

"If I don't you may well lose your leg, or worse, your life," she told him.

"Can't you call a Maester?" he asked her desperately.

"You think I have coin for a Maester? We are not all high Lords who get their service for free," she almost snapped at him.

"Please … can we not wait a little longer, perhaps it will improve," he said hopefully.

"I have already left it longer than I should have," she told him, standing up and picking up the poker.

Theon swallowed hard as she seemed to examine it before plunging it deep into the hot embers. He couldn't keep his eyes from it then as she stood there watching as it began to heat up. The minutes seemed to go by agonisingly slowly but eventually she turned to face him and pulled a roll of thick bandage from her apron. She came to his side then and wrapped it around his wrist.

"What are you doing?" he asked her.

"Tying you down," she answered him, "you will move around otherwise and make it worse"

"Can it get worse?" he asked her sarcastically as she tied him firmly to the bed frame.

"Yes," she shot at him with finality and he spared her a glare as she moved to strap his injured leg down against the mattress.

When she had tied his uninjured leg to the bed frame he glared at her again but she merely raised her eyebrows at him before returning to the fire and pulling out the poker. As she pulled it out he saw the red hot tip and he wanted to scream already, part of him wishing she had gagged him as well. She moved closer to him then and he could almost see the apprehension in his eyes and it made him close his own.

"This will hurt," she told him before his world erupted into white hot agony.

* * *

_Dragonstone_

* * *

Oberyn shot a sideways look at Jon as he sauntered along the docks with his guard in his wake. Jon nodded slightly to him before falling back and melting into the crowd of people making their way up to the looming expanse of the keep. Curious looks were shot their way as they made their way closer and closer and when they came upon the main gates they were firmly closed. Jon felt a rising sense of panic but Oberyn looked unaffected as he tapped his foot lightly against the ground. After a few minutes a group of people approached as they came closer Jon saw the glimpse of red between them and his heart began to pound.

"What is this?" the red woman asked when she reached the gates, her eyes piercing.

"I am Price Oberyn of Dorne, I was on my way to the Capitol for the coronation but my ship was blown rather off course during an unexpected storm. Given that we were so close to Dragonstone my curiosity rather got the better of me …" he trailed off and sent her a smile.

"Indeed," she said, considering him for a moment, "very well, we would be delighted to receive you, open the gates!"

Jon tried to focus on breathing evenly as the gates slowly began to rise up, clenching his fists slowly to try and stop his hands from shaking. Oberyn seemed far too casual in his opinion but he had promised to follow his lead and he supposed the Prince had managed to get them to open the gates to them with relative ease. Jon knew it wasn't a lie that Oberyn had indeed been invited to the Capitol for the coronation and so he supposed that much would not arouse any suspicions. Not yet at least. When the gates clanked to a stop Oberyn stepped deftly under them and swept into a bow before the red woman who had a rather satisfied look in her eyes.

"My Lady Melisandre I presume?" he said, taking the hand she offered and placing a kiss to it that Jon felt lingered far longer than necessary.

"Prince Oberyn," she smiled back at him, her gaze more curious than suspicious now, "can I tempt you and your men with some wine?"

"I don't doubt that you could tempt anyone you wished," he told her and her lips turned up into a satisfied smile.

"Then please," she said, gesturing towards the keep before leading the way towards the steps.

* * *

There were visitors. Val had worked that much out from pressing her ear against the door and listening for what felt like an age. If there were visitors perhaps that would make them less alert. Perhaps with them distracted by whoever had come she could finally make a break for it. She might just stand a chance if the alarm was not raised right away. Her catching that chill had been a blessing in disguise only she had not seen it at the time. Over the days locked up here in this room though she began to realise she had a much better hope of escape up here than if she was still chained up in the prison. At least here she could move freely, even if it was still within the confines of four walls. Her luncheon would be brought to her soon. If she was going to do this she was going to have to decide quickly what she would do. She went to her bed then and slipped her hand under the mattress, feeling for what she had hidden under there after one of her dinners several days ago. When she pulled out the knife she examined it. It hadn't been sharp when she had taken it but scraping it repeatedly against the stone ledge of the windowsill had made it deadly. It would not be a graceful kill but it would do the job she was certain of that. She slipped it under her pillow then before unlacing the top of her tunic to expose the ample swell of her breasts.

Almost as she did that she heard the key in the lock and a moment later the handle turned. She fixed her face into that of indifference but she saw the guard who had brought her meal to her look instantly towards her body. She had hoped it would be this one who came, he always seemed to linger far longer than necessary and she would bet anything that he had had more than one illicit thought of her. He closed the door behind him before making his way to the table and setting down the tray of food. She sat slowly down on the bed then, her right hand sneaking under the pillow and grasping firmly around the knife. When he straightened up to move back towards the door she knew that it was now or never.

"Wait," she said and his steps faltered, "I think I would rather have my meal in bed … would you mind? I still feel weak after the chill …"

She could practically see him considering her words then as he stood in the middle of the room. After what seemed like forever he sighed heavily and walked back to the table, picking up the tray and bringing it towards her. She leant forward slightly as he bent down to place it on the bed and she knew that her movement would give him a perfect view of her breasts. He seemed to falter again then and she knew she had him, lifting her eyes up to his and blinking slowly up at him. After a long moment he took a tiny step closer to her and she allowed her body to arch ever so slowly towards him. The fool. His lust for her would kill him. She reached her left hand out then and placed it gently on his chest. His knee came to rest on the bed then and she moved herself up higher. His hand came to her waist then, his lips coming for her neck. When he was engaged in what he was doing she wrenched her knife from under the pillow and drove it in between his ribs with all her strength. His grunt of pain was stifled against the skin of her neck and she pulled the knife free before shoving him away from her. He toppled off the bed then, moaning in agony as she stood above him, grabbing the pillow from the bed before pressing it firmly over his face. He didn't have the strength to fight her although he made a few feeble attempts. When he stilled she tossed the pillow aside and swiftly unbuckled his sword belt and pulled it away from him, wrapping it around her own waist before going to the dresser and pulling out the cloak she had found in there several days ago.

After she threw it around her shoulders she moved to the door and pressed her ear against it, her heart pounding in her chest as she listened for any hint of noise. She heard nothing and so slowly turned the handle until there was a gap just wide enough for her to slip out of. Once out in the hallway she turned the key in the lock and slipped it down the front of her tunic before tugging the hood of the cloak up above her distinctive hair. She looked from left to right then and tried to decide which way was the best way to go. She knew she was high up and so she knew she would have to try and find some stairs if she was going to have any hope of getting herself out of the keep. What she would do if she did escape the walls she didn't know but she could worry about that later if it came to it. She took a deep breath then and chose to go right, moving as quickly as she dared down the hallway, keeping herself as close to the wall as she could as she made her way towards what would hopefully be her freedom.

* * *

Jon waited until Oberyn had the red witch completely engrossed in conversation before he nudged one of his fellows in the ribs and made his way towards the guarded doors of the solar. He kept his facial expression as neutral as possible as he asked one of them where the nearest bathroom was. Thankfully the guard didn't offer to show them the way and instead just gave them instructions. Luckily it wasn't very close by so they should have enough time before any suspicions were aroused. They could always claim they got lost if anyone questioned them about their whereabouts. Oberyn seemed to have the red witch wrapped tightly around his fingers for which Jon was grateful as he and his companion made their way out into the hallways. They had assumed that Val would be in the prison and so set off along the way to the main entranceway where they imagined the steps leading down to the prison would be concealed somewhere. He wrenched open the first door he came to as his comrade glanced around warily to make sure that no one was around. Jon cursed as the stairs it revealed led upwards, no doubt some backstairs that the servants used to travel around relatively unnoticed. He was about to slam the door closed when he heard the clashing of steel from above. In an instant he was darting up them and he could hear his companion racing up behind him.

A cloaked figure was standing over the body of a guard when he reached the top and he froze for a moment. Whoever it was stepped over the body then and went to hurry down the hallway but Jon was after them in an instant, grabbing hold of them and dragging them back into an alcove. They struggled but Jon held fast, somehow turning them around and shoving them up against the wall. He could hear their ragged breathing then as he raised his hand to pull down the hood of their cloak. When it came down he stared. He had never expected it to be this easy, what in the seven hells was she doing roaming the hallways and killing guards?

"Jon?" she whispered then and he nodded dumbly. In the next second she was in his arms and he could feel her trembling, her tears wet on his neck.

"We need to get you out of here," he murmured to her.

"Jon," his companion said sharply behind her, "we need to get this man hidden"

"Aye," Jon agreed, gently shoving Val away from him and stepping out into the hallway to help him move the body of the dead guard.

"Did you come for me?" Val asked him as they dragged him into the opposite alcove.

"Why else would I be here?" he countered with a small smile.

"How did you know I was here?" she questioned him and he shook his head.

"That's a long tale, I can tell you all about it once we're safely on the ship to Maidenpool," he told her.

"Maidenpool?" she questioned him, "Where is that? Why are we going there?"

"We will meet the rest of the army there," he said, "Aegon's marching south"

"Jon … I …" she faltered, her hands fluttering around her stomach which Jon saw was slightly rounded.

"He knows Val," he said, meeting her eyes and she swallowed hard.

"Is he angry with me?" she whispered.

"No," he promised her, "he has been beside himself worrying about you. He would have come himself if we had not persuaded him otherwise, come now – we have to go."

Val took his outstretched hand then and allowed him to pull her down the hallway and back down the stairs they had just ascended. Once down at the bottom Jon pressed his ear to the door as his comrade glanced back up the stairs nervously. He took a deep breath then before turning to face the pair of them. This had not gone the way he had planned, his father had told him about the secret way out of the prison at Dragonstone but now it had transpired Val had not been locked up there and so he would have to think of something else and think quickly. "Stay here," he said to both of them then and they nodded to him and he forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile before heading back out into the entranceway and hurrying back towards the solar they had come from. When he entered Oberyn looked up, as did the red witch when his attention was captured, her eyes meeting Jon's in a searching way as she swirled her wine slowly around in its glass.

"My companion has taken ill, I think I should return him to the ship," Jon said then.

"Too much wine after a long voyage," Oberyn sighed exasperatedly, "I warned him"

"He didn't listen," Jon said.

"Indeed, take him down to the ship, the Maester aboard will fix him up," he waved his hand dismissively before turning back to the red witch.

"Yes my Lord," Jon bowed before heading towards the door again.

* * *

Jon had been gone for almost an hour without any sign of incident and Oberyn could only assume that he had got down to the ship by now. Now it was up to him to get all his remaining men out of the keep without seeming too hasty and arousing the suspicions of the red witch. Oberyn was no fool, he could understand perfectly well how she had managed to wrap Stannis Baratheon entirely around her slim and supple fingers. Had he not known what she was and what she had been planning to do then he would almost certainly have been tempted to make a play for her himself. She was certainly beautiful he could not deny that and she had a look in her eyes that told him that she would be very skilled in the bedchamber. Still. She was not to be trusted and he had no time to waste.

"I fear we have taken up enough of your time my Lady," he said as he drained his glass.

"Nonsense, you have barely arrived," she said.

"And I would love to stay longer, but some of my men are getting _restless,"_ he said, "we have been long at sea"

"I see," she said, arching one of her perfect brows.

"We passed some enticing looking buildings on our way to the keep," he continued and she smiled slightly.

"Perhaps you yourself are _restless," _she teased him slightly and he smiled widely.

"You see right through me my Lady," he held his hands up, "and here I was hoping to use my men as an excuse"

"I must insist you return tomorrow, for dinner perhaps?" she suggested, her eyes meeting his.

"That would be my sincere pleasure," he told her, "although I must keep one eye on the wind should it turn favourable … I would not want to miss the coronation"

"No indeed," she agreed with him and he stood up from his chair and bowed lowly to her again.

She inclined her own head to him, a small smile still playing on her lips as she extended her hand to him. He took it in his own and pressed another lingering kiss to the back of it.

"It has been a pleasure my Lady," he said, keeping eye contact for a moment before dropping her hand and stepping towards his men.

"The pleasure has been all mine Prince Oberyn," she returned and he winked at her before turning away, his men falling into step behind him.

* * *

Melisandre felt immensely satisfied with herself as she walked along the hallway towards Val's chambers. Stannis had been worried that Dorne would defect to this Targaryen boy but it seemed that they had seen right through his false claims. Oberyn had practically been eating out of the palm of her hand and she had seen the looks the Dornishman had bestowed on her. Things always ran more smoothly when the men desired her, she could get them to do almost anything with the hint of a promise that they may be able to claim what was between her thighs. Oberyn may be a Prince but he was no different to anyone else. She stopped at the door to Val's chambers then and looked pointedly at the guard who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Well?" she said impatiently, "Don't just stand there; open it up!"

"I don't have the key my Lady, Derek has it and I don't know where he is"

"What?!" she snapped, her hand going for the handle, her panic subsiding slightly when she found it was still locked, "Get the gaoler up here, he has a key," she demanded.

A man ran off to do her bidding at once and she stared at the guard outside Val's chambers until he looked away from her, a bright blush rising on his cheeks. To Melisandre it felt like an age before the man returned with the gaoler and she turned her eyes instead to them, gesturing impatiently towards the locked door. The gaoler went to open it at once and she shoved him aside once he had turned it and flung open the door. Her heart almost stopped as she disbelievingly took in the scene. For a second she couldn't process it; the body, the bloody knife left on the floor, Val gone. Val gone. She heard the men behind her shout then, shouting orders to search the keep and a sick feeling crept into her stomach. That boy … that boy had been familiar. She strode into the room then and stepped over Derek's body, going straight for the window. She could see right out into the bay from here and she could see the Dornish sails hoisted above the ship that had already sailed far away from the harbour walls.

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down! And finally a bit of comeuppance for our red friend ;) Hopefully you all enjoyed, do let me know.

Just on a side note, some of you have already read it I know (thank you!) but if anyone is interested I've just put up a first chapter of a new fic called Butterfly Effect which is a Jaime/OC, Robb/OC (not the same OC!) If you are interested you can find it on my page but I won't be offended if you're not ;)

Anyway, next chapter of this on Thursday.

:)


	51. Shining Light

**A/N: **New chapter guys, as always I hope you enjoy it! This one's a happy one for a change as I thought you needed a break - also I have some pretty heavy stuff coming up soon so enjoy it while it lasts!

**Guest: **Thanks for the suggestions for baby names. Not sure I would use them for baby Stark but definitely a consideration for a Targaryen baby.

:)

* * *

**Shining Light**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Serra spun slowly as her mother had instructed her, making sure she didn't trip on the trailing skirts of her gown. It was the finest thing she had ever had in her life and it was Dany, who was perched beaming on the end of her bed, who she had to thank for it. She took a deep breath then and smiled at her mother whose eyes were shining with tears. Part of her could not believe that this was happening, that today was her wedding day. Today she would marry Gendry who had insisted to her countless times that it was what he wanted despite her constant worries that he was only doing it out of pity. If that were the case she did not think she would be able to take it. She had thought herself to be in love with Jon what felt like forever ago but standing here on her wedding day she knew she had been a fool. With Gendry she felt as though she truly belonged, just being in his presence made her stomach flutter nervously. He was sweet and kind and far better than she had ever thought she deserved after the way she had shamed herself. She swallowed hard. Today was not the day to dwell on that. Today was a day to be happy and rejoice and celebrate with her family. Winterfell had been on edge recently what with many of the men off to war and she hoped that today's celebrations would at least bring a little relief.

"You look beautiful," her mother said then, sniffing slightly.

"Truly stunning," Dany added with a wide smile of her own.

"I cannot believe my girls are so grown up," Loral said, glancing between Serra and Dany.

"Both having found good men," Jory's voice came from the doorway and she managed a smile for him.

"We are lucky indeed," Dany said, standing up and smoothing her hands down the front of her gown where a hint of a bump was beginning to show.

"Are you ready sweetheart?" Jory asked then, his eyes on Serra who nodded.

"Not so fast," Loral said, crossing to her daughter, "I would have a moment first"

"I will wait downstairs," Jory said, squeezing his wife's shoulder reassuringly before taking his leave.

"I'll go too," Dany said slightly awkwardly before following on after him.

Loral considered Serra then for a long moment, seeing the anticipation shining in her daughter's eyes and taking in the essence of calm that seemed to surround her. She was satisfied at least that her daughter would be happy, that this was what she wanted. Part of her wasn't ready to let her go yet but Jory was full of reassurances. Serra and Gendry did not have the coin yet to take a home of their own and so they would be staying with them for the time being. Loral knew that Gendry was earning coin quickly though and it would not be long before he could afford a marital home for him and Serra. She pushed that away though and brought a smile to her face for Serra, placing her hands gently on her shoulders.

"I know how happy he makes you," she said quietly, "I see it in your eyes every day and I know you will be happy with him"

"I will," Serra agreed, meeting her eyes.

"About tonight …" she started then and Serra instantly dropped her gaze.

"You don't need to say anything mother," she said quietly.

"If there is pain, know it is only for the first time," Loral persisted and she nodded.

"I know," Serra managed.

"Good," Loral said, squeezing her shoulders slightly before stepping back, "come now, we best not keep your father waiting."

* * *

Ser Ralf read the letter through twice before laughing in relief and turning and running as fast as his legs would carry him towards home. When he burst through the door Adele looked round in alarm and he beamed at her, her brow furrowing as she took in his delighted appearance. He approached her then and held out the letter which she took with a look of hope springing up into her eyes. Tears tracked down her cheeks as she read the letter through but for once he was unconcerned as her lips were turned upwards into a wide smile that he could not help but mirror on his own face. Finally things were beginning to look up for his precious girl and he could not have been happier to see the happiness etched across her face again as she reached the end of the letter and crushed it against her heart, her eyes closing as she looked up and murmured her thanks to the Gods over and over. He was home. Still leagues away but back on the mainland and away from Pyke at least. Gods, she could scarce believe that her nightmare was almost over, that she may soon have him back in her arms again.

"What happens now?" she asked her father weakly, turning her eyes to him.

"I will take men myself down to Seagard," he promised her.

"Thank you," she whispered, stepping forward and letting him fold her gently into his arms.

"Anything for you," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"I can hardly believe it," she said wonderingly and he had to blink back his own tears.

"I'll bring him back to you sweetheart I promise you," he said before releasing her.

"When will you go?" she asked him, her eyes wide.

"Tomorrow, once the wedding is over," he told her and she bit her lip worriedly, "what is it?" he asked in concern.

"The baby," she said, her hands coming to her stomach, "with you gone as well … I don't want to be alone when it comes … I'm frightened"

"You will not be alone," he swore to her, "I will settle it with Lady Stark that you can stay in the keep, you will not be alone Adele I promise you"

"What if something goes wrong?" she asked him in a slightly strangled voice.

"You will be well looked after by Maester Luwin, and there will be others with you, did Dany not promise to stay with you? And Serra?" he soothed her.

"Yes … but …" she began.

"No buts," he cut her off, "you and the baby will be just fine, and I know when Theon and I return you will both be waiting for us"

"I never thought I'd have to do this without him," she confessed.

"When your mother had you I determined to be with her," he told her then, "but she would not have it, she wanted me nowhere near her after what I'd done to her. Believe me sweetheart, when your time comes Theon will be the last thing on your mind … you might well be grateful he is away from you, I know your mother would have preferred me to be anywhere else"

"You still miss her don't you?" Adele said sadly and he smiled faintly for her.

"Every day," he nodded.

"I wish she was here," she said then.

"So do I sweetheart … she would have known what to do better than I," he said.

"You're wonderful," she told him, "you have always been wonderful"

"Come now, don't make an old man cry," he mock scolded her and she smiled widely at him before turning to pick up her cloak.

"We should go," she said as she wrapped it around herself, "we don't want to miss the wedding."

* * *

Gendry's heart pounded as Jory walked Serra into the Godswood and he swallowed rather hard, looking away from her for a moment to calm himself. He caught Arya's eye then and she poked her tongue out at him before sending him a swift grin which he forced himself to return. When he looked back at Serra she beamed at him and the gesture made him relax somewhat although his heart was still racing. Part of him still didn't believe that this was real, that he of all people was _allowed _to marry her. He knew that she thought that she was the lucky one; that she was grateful to him for even wanting her but he knew better, he was the lucky one and he would never forget it. Jory smiled for him as they came to a halt, looking between them for a moment before he gently took Serra's hand from the crook of his arm and placed it in the one that Gendry had just held out for her. She met his eyes then and he managed a deep breath as Jory moved away from them.

Jory slipped his hand into Loral's as they stood watching with Joren by their side. He didn't need to glance sideways at his wife to know that she was crying but he did anyway, seeing the tears slip slowly down her cheeks. He knew that they were tears of pride and happiness but they still made his heart pang uncomfortably, he hated seeing his wife cry, it made him feel like he could barely breathe. He squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled slightly at Joren who rolled his eyes. Jory tried not to smirk at the gesture and moved his eyes instead back to his daughter who was now reciting her vows. It seemed like yesterday that Loral had battled to bring her into the world and now here she was pledging her life to another man's protection. Jory had sworn when she had been born that he would always protect her, and when the time came he would only ever consider offering her hand to a man who would cherish her. Gendry would cherish her, he could see that in the man's eyes every day whenever he set them on Serra. He was besotted with her and Jory was glad of it, his Serra should always be smiling. Gendry was sliding the ring onto her finger now and Jory swallowed hard as he regretfully dropped Loral's hand in anticipation of applauding the newly married couple.

Serra's heart hit hard against her ribs as Gendry slipped the ring onto her finger before meeting her eyes. It was done now, she didn't need the Septon's words to tell her that they were husband and wife, she knew it well enough. She smiled up at him then and he smiled back, a slightly relieved look in his eyes as he seemed to hesitate slightly before leaning in and touching his lips ever so lightly against hers. It may only have been a light brushing but Serra's stomach coiled in knots that were not at all unpleasant and she somehow knew in that moment that she would have a rather enjoyable wedding night. She regretted that Gendry would not be the first man she gave herself to but she was pleased that there would be no pain, that she could just enjoy him. She consoled herself that he would be the last man, the only man from this moment that she would ever be with and the thought had her beaming up at him as he gazed down on her. The claps and cheers of the gathered crowd finally seemed to get through to both of them then and they moved as one, Serra slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow as they led the way out of the Godswood and towards the keep where Dany and Lady Stark had insisted they have a proper wedding feast.

* * *

"You look happy," Dany commented and Adele looked up and beamed at her.

"I have finally had word of Theon," she said.

"I heard," Dany smiled, sliding into the space next to her, "you must be so relieved"

"More relieved than I have words for," Adele said, shaking her head slightly.

"Was he badly injured? Maester Luwin said something about his leg," she asked in concern.

"He said it was nothing to worry about, that I should not trouble myself," Adele replied.

"Good," Dany smiled, taking her hand a squeezing it for a moment.

"Have you had any word of Robb and the others?" Adele asked her then.

"A letter yesterday," she nodded, "they are making steady progress south although depending on what happens at Dragonstone they may be delayed a while when they reach Maidenpool"

"I pray that all will go well, all this uncertainty is suffocating," Adele said, shaking her head slightly.

"Believe me I know," Dany nodded, "Margaery!" she called out then, "Come and join us!"

"I'm not intruding?" Margaery asked as she approached with Steffon in her arms.

"Of course not," Dany assured her, "come, you must meet Adele"

"I'm sure we ought to have met long ago but I have not been sociable since Steffon was born," Margaery said, offering her a smile as she sat down next to Dany.

"I haven't been sociable myself of late," Adele returned her smile.

"Adele is Theon's wife," Dany told Margaery and she nodded in understanding.

"Oh of course," she said apologetically, "I'm so sorry for everything you've had to endure"

"He will be home soon enough," Adele nodded, "then perhaps I can rest easy again"

"You ought to rest now while you still can," Margaery said darkly, glancing down at her son.

"Does he still not sleep well?" Dany asked her sympathetically.

"He sleeps like a dream during the day, its night time that's the problem," she said wryly.

"Sometimes I feel like I cannot wait for the baby to come but sometimes the thought is so overwhelmingly terrifying," Adele put in then.

"I know that feeling," Margaery nodded, "but once they're in your arms instinct takes over and you wonder what you were ever worried about"

"Well in that case I cannot wait," Adele laughed slightly.

"No," Dany agreed, smiling fondly at the baby in Margaery's arms as she thought of her own which had stirred only a few days ago, not that everyone hadn't already guessed.

"It's a shame I won't always be at Winterfell," Margaery said then, "it would have been nice for all our babes to grow up together"

"It would," Dany agreed with a smile, "I suppose we will all just have to promise to write to one another and visit whenever we can"

"It's a deal," Margaery smiled.

"She looks happy," Adele smiled over towards Serra who was dancing in Gendry's arms, "I sometimes wish I had had a wedding like this"

"You would have," Dany said, "if you had done as you were told and married the knight from Torrhen's Square"

"True enough," Adele smiled widely and Dany grinned back at her.

"You were not destined for Theon then?" Margaery asked her curiously.

"We married in secret," Adele told her, "my father was furious when he found out"

"That is rather an understatement," Dany raised her brows.

"That's so brave of you," Margaery said, "to risk it all for the man you love"

"Or rather foolish," Adele sighed, "either way I could never regret it"

"No," Dany agreed, smiling wistfully, "I never thought I would be Robb's wife but that has been the greatest gift to come out of these troubles … for me anyway"

"You're both so lucky," Margaery smiled slightly sadly.

"You will be too someday, you always have to believe that," Dany told her.

"Yes," she agreed, nodding her head and thinking of Jon, "I do believe that, with all my heart."

* * *

They left the feast early, just as everyone was starting to get a little drunk and when no one was paying them any mind. The streets had been quiet as they had ambled through them hand in hand, neither of them saying a word as they were caught up in their own nervousness. Gendry was worried that he would not know what to do, that he would not know how to please her. Serra in her turn was scared that she would be a disappointment as she wasn't a maid. Neither of them voiced their insecurities as they came upon the Cassel house and let themselves in. Still they said nothing as they ascended the stairs and instead of parting on the landing as they had done for the countless nights previously they both slipped into Serra's chamber which was the larger of the two. Serra lit the candles once they were inside and Gendry stood still where he was at the side of the bed, just watching her as she moved around the room. When she was done she turned to fix him with a shy smile which he returned, trying to ignore his shaking hands. She came towards him then and came to a halt just in front of him, tilting her head up so she could meet his eyes before tentatively bringing her hands to his chest. He breathed deeply under her touch and she took that as an encouraging sign, deftly moving her fingers to untie the lacings of his doublet.

Her touch on him gave him the encouragement he needed to place his own hands on her hips and pull her slightly closer to him. She slid his doublet from his shoulders then and he regretfully moved his hands away from her so it could drop down to the floor. Before he could place them back on her she was pulling up his shirt and he aided her in tugging it up and over his head before she let it drop to join his doublet. He wanted to blush as she appraised his bare chest, he knew he wasn't a weak looking man, all the work in the smiths ensured he had bulk to him but he couldn't help but imagine what that other man had looked like. Gendry forced himself not to think of that, thinking of Serra with another man now that she was his made him feel sick, even slightly angry. He had promised her it didn't matter and it hadn't, not until this moment where he was terrified that he wouldn't measure up to her previous experience. Her hands came to his chest then, wandering his muscles slowly before she stepped slightly closer to him and brought her lips to his bare skin. He felt his breeches become slowly tighter as she continued her ministrations, his desire for her swelling him as it often had on nights he had lain in bed alone and dreamed of her. He had been embarrassed some mornings at how hard he had been on awakening, knowing that it was Serra who had such an effect on him. His fingers went to toy with the lacings of her dress then as he vaguely wondered whether he would have the same effect on her.

"It's alright Gendry," she whispered against his skin, her fingers digging into his muscles slightly as he continued playing with her lacings. Encouraged by her words he began to unthread them and she felt her dress come looser and looser around her. Her fingers clenched even more sharply into Gendry's skin as he pulled her dress apart and slipped it down from her shoulders. She moved her hands from him then and allowed it to fall to the floor. He couldn't help but stare at her as she stood there in just a shift and she wanted to blush under his intense gaze but her eyes refused to drop to the floor. Gendry looked away first, unable to ignore the throbbing in his breeches any longer, bending down to unlace his boots and kick them away. When he straightened up he moved towards her and was glad when she didn't make to move away from him. His fingers hooked under the straps of her shift as he moved his eyes to hers as though to ask her permission. When she nodded her head slightly he slipped the straps down her shoulders and her shift fell fluidly to the floor to join her dress. Seeing her bare was like nothing he had ever imagined as he let his hands trail down from her shoulders and down her sides to settle on her hips and pull her flush against him. She gasped at his sudden movement and he was suddenly nervous again but she melted his uncertainty at once as she let her own hands wrap around his torso, her head tilting up so she could press her lips to his.

They were slightly tentative at first, their first kiss had been light and chaste in the Godswood; there had been no stolen ones before it, only light brushings against one another's cheeks which would make both of their cheeks burn. This was real now though as their lips moved together, slowly getting used to one another before their tongues twisted together, coming together and tasting one another as their bodies pressed even closer together. Gendry could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his own and it struck him in that moment just how good and right it felt to be this close to her. He had never thought that he would be lucky enough to marry anyone let alone a woman as wonderful and sweet as Serra was. She tasted so good on his lips and in his head and in his heart he knew he had to possess her entirely, knew that he could not wait any longer to have her. Almost as though she had read his mind she began to gently pull him back towards the bed, their lips still working together, only pulling away from one another when the back of Serra's legs hit the bed. She was near breathless as she looked up into his eyes for a moment before she lowered herself down onto the bed and slowly moved herself back, pulling the covers and furs aside as she did before laying herself down against the pillows.

Gendry took a moment to let his eyes wander the entirety of her before he moved his hands to his lacings and deftly unthread them, pulling his breeches away from him and tossing them aside before he too moved to the bed. He felt suddenly uncertain again then as he crawled to her side but again her hands came to him, one to his shoulder and the other wrapping around his forearm to encourage him to climb on top of her. She moved her legs apart as he shifted himself above her and he slowly nestled between her legs which she wrapped around his waist as he settled above her. He let one of his hands rub up and down her thigh then, the other bracing himself by her head so his weight wouldn't crush her. His eyes found hers after a moment and she smiled up at him, the action instantly making him feel relieved as he returned her gesture gladly. She ran her hands up his arms then so they came to settle on his shoulders and he bit down on his lower lip as he shifted himself so his hardness was pressed right up against her. "Are you ready?" he breathed at her, needing her to let him know as he didn't want to rush her or pressure her too quickly. She nodded her head, the smile back on her lips again as she gazed up at him; "I'm ready," she whispered back and he pushed slowly into her at her words, a gasp leaving her lips as he slid easily into her warmth, his length filling her completely.

For a moment he was worried he had hurt her but his worries melted away in an instant when she pulled his head down to capture his lips in a deep kiss, the taste of her on his tongue so sweet he didn't know if he would ever be able to go a day without kissing her. He rocked his hips slowly then and felt the hum of what he hoped was pleasure come from her as they continued their kiss. She met his movement on his next thrust and they continued on with their slow rhythm, heat building up between them and making it ever so easy for their slick bodies to move against one another. Serra had to turn her head away from his kiss as it became harder and harder to breath as she gasped out in pleasure, a small moan leaving her mouth as they moved so perfectly together. Gendry revelled in the fact that she was enjoying it, his lips trailing along her cheek and down to her neck. He dared let his hand wander up from her thigh then and wander up her side until he could find her breast. She arched her back further up into him as he cupped his hand around the swell and brushed his thumb over her bud which hardened under his touch. Breathless cries were leaving her mouth almost on every thrust then and knots were coiling so tightly in her stomach that she thought she might explode. It was a good feeling though, the best feeling she had ever experienced which was only outstripped in the next instant as all those knots came undone all at once.

Gendry groaned out against the soft skin of her neck as she somehow enclosed even more tightly around him and he could feel his own body on the brink of release as she let out a slightly surprised gasp and cry of pleasure, her fingers digging into his shoulders as pleasure coursed through her entire body. He could hold on no longer then and he groaned out again as he spilled deep inside her, his exhausted body reaching the peak of pleasure and collapsing down against hers. How long they lay like that they didn't know, both of them just focusing on the others breathing as both of them found their heartbeats slowly returning to normal. Eventually Gendry found the strength to push himself up and slide himself from her heavenly warmth. There was a lazy smile on her face which he couldn't help but return as he gazed down on her body again. Gods she was beautiful and all he wanted to do was pull those covers and furs around them and wrap her in his arms so they could both fall into dreams together but there was something he had to do first. He knew there was a dagger under her mattress, she had told him with a roll of her eyes once that her father had insisted upon it. His hand sought it out then and he saw her brow furrow as he pulled it out and brought it to the underside of his bicep where he knew no one would see it.

"Gendry, what are you doing?!" she demanded, hauling herself up to try and stop him but blood was already trickling onto the blade.

"It's alright," he soothed her as she stared at him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" she repeated in a whisper.

"They'll expect it," he said, moving the blade away from his arm and letting the droplets of blood drip from it and spot onto the sheet beneath them.

"Oh …" she breathed, suddenly understanding and feeling the familiar shame well up in her.

"It doesn't matter to me Serra," he said softly, cupping her cheek, "I'm glad I didn't have to cause you any pain"

"I wish I could explain how wonderful you are Gendry," she said, her eyes meeting his.

"I love you Serra," he said then, finally plucking up the courage to tell her.

"I love you too," she said back to him, her eyes not leaving his so he could see that she meant it.

He could only grin then and peck lightly at her lips before he pulled away from her so he could clean himself up and replace the dagger beneath her mattress. She watched him as he wrapped a cloth around the cut on his arm and wiped the dagger clean on the inside of his doublet before he slid it back under her mattress. He moved to come back to the bed then and she shifted over slightly and pulled some of the sheets and furs over their bodies as he slipped in beside her. After a moment he pulled her into his arms and she lay her head contentedly down on his chest so she could listen to his heartbeat. He could feel her warm breath against his skin as she lay cradled in his arms and the feel of it had his eyes closing in contentment. Serra sighed happily and snuggled even closer to him, feeling his arms tighten protectively around her as she did so. "Thank you Gendry," she breathed sleepily before she allowed her own eyes to close.

* * *

**A/N: **So there's your happy chapter - don't get too used to them ;)

More soon guys!

:)


	52. A Poisoned Crown

**A/N: **Hey guys! This was a really tough chapter for me to write. It gets pretty emotional so fair warning. Any comment would be amazing.

Thanks as always.

:)

* * *

**A Poisoned Crown**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"My King."

Stannis turned at the familiar voice, straightening his doublet of black and gold as he did so. Melisandre smiled at him as he turned to face her but his own expression remained stony. He had received some disturbing reports that the false Targaryen was making steady progress south, and even more disturbing reports that he had been joined by the Vale and some even said that Dorne had joined to his cause. On hearing the news he had been in no mood for this parade that was his coronation but the council had persuaded him to continue on with his plans. It would look good, they told him, would show that he was not afraid of this new threat, that it was not worrying him in the slightest. It would do well to parade Erinne around as well as her condition was beginning to show, he had insisted that her dress be close fitting so there would be no doubt that she was carrying his child. He had to show the people that he was strong. That his family was strong. Willas would be escorting Shireen, another reminder to the people of what strong allegiances he had made. No doubt Melisandre would have her own opinions on the matter, not that he would listen to her after the mess she had made in failing to rid him of this Targaryen pretender.

"You're back," he stated coldly.

"Just in time it would seem," she said, "you look most regal your Grace"

"Thank you," he said stiffly.

"Is it true you intend to be anointed in the Sept?" she asked lightly but he was instantly uneasy.

"Things are precarious enough without me denouncing the Seven," he told her.

"Of course," she said, "but the people cannot live in ignorance forever, they must be shown the way of the light, of the true God"

"In time," he snapped.

"Of course," she said again but she was not placated, best she bite her tongue for now though.

"Will you be attending the ceremony?" he asked her then.

"If you wish it my King," she said lightly.

"You have come all this way," he said in response and she inclined her head slightly.

"Then it would be my honour," she said.

"The Targaryen has moved further south, gained more allies," he told her then, striding round to pour them both a glass of wine.

"The false Targaryen," she added and he nodded.

"Yes," he said, taking a long sip, "though that does not seem to bother the masses"

"After today there will be no doubt that you are the true King of Westeros," she soothed him.

"Perhaps," he said grudgingly as she took a sip of her own wine.

"The city is too strong to fall, no matter his numbers," she continued.

"Have you heard the rumours of dragons?" he asked her then.

"Even if they are true the beasts will be too small to cause any trouble," she said dismissively.

"Yes," he agreed, taking another drink.

"You are the King," she said, meeting his eyes, "and after today everyone will know it."

* * *

Erinne took a long, deep breath as her attendant tied the lacings at the back of her dress. It was a fine thing, even finer than the white silks she had been made for her wedding. It was made entirely of cloth of gold and glimmered enchantingly in the candlelight. She imagined it would look even more impressive in the midday sunshine when she walked to the Sept of Baelor at Stannis' side. He had had her a cloak of black velvet made as well so she would not catch a chill in the cooling weather, his thoughtfulness had taken her rather by surprise and had the guilt stabbing at her stomach again. True to her word she had not seen Willas alone since she had told Loras to keep him away but her lightly rounded stomach was a reminder every day of her betrayal. She could not regret it but that did not stop her being terrified that Stannis would somehow find out. There was no reason he should, they had been careful and she was confident that no one would betray their secret. The only people who knew the truth were too implicated in all of it to risk their head in order to tell Stannis. There were very few people who were completely loyal to her husband, she had learned that very quickly.

She smoothed her hands gently over her stomach then, a faint smile on her face as she felt the baby gently stirring inside her. After a moment she waved her attendants away and lowered herself down into the window seat where she could see the people milling around outside, no doubt making the final preparations for the feast that would follow the coronation. The sooner it was all over the better in her opinion, people's eyes on her only served to make her feel even more paranoid and guilty. It didn't help that Stannis had been true to his word since Cersei's execution, spending a lot more time with her and Shireen. He still did not trouble himself to come to her bed though and she was glad of it although she did sometimes find herself enjoying his company during waking hours. She wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. Now was not the time to dwell on that though, she had to be perfect today, she could not put once step out of line. She took another deep breath, closing her eyes and praying to the Seven that she had the strength to get through the day. A knock sounded on the door then and she fixed a smile on her face at once before calling for her visitor to come in. It was Stannis' squire and she rose from her seat at once, knowing that it was time to go down to the entranceway and be the perfect Queen.

"Is it time?" she asked the squire.

"Yes my Queen," he bowed lowly to her and she nodded slightly and offered him a small smile before she swept passed him, her ladies following on in her wake.

She descended the stairs slowly, wary of tripping on her long skirts as she made her way down into the entrance hall. Stannis looked up as she came down the last of the steps and she smiled widely at him, seeing him return the gesture although she could see the worry etched on his face and knew that he had no doubt had another sleepless night. She knew he wouldn't appreciate her drawing attention the fact though and so she said nothing.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"Surely I should be asking you that," she said, tilting her head to one side and seeing a more genuine smile light up his face.

"The sooner it is over the better," he said honestly and she smiled sympathetically.

"As you say," she said and he offered her his arm.

She took it, turning her head to see Shireen just behind her tentatively taking the arm that Willas had held out to her. Shireen looked beautiful and Erinne sent her a wide smile which made the young girl look a lot more relaxed which she was glad of. She avoided Willas' eyes altogether and instead turned back to the front as she and Stannis walked in step out into the sunlight. People were lining the courtyard and she could see the train of litters waiting on the other side of it to bear them to the Sept. The people cheered as they walked across the courtyard and Erinne smiled widely, raising her hand up to acknowledge them, the noise only increasing at her gesture. At her side Stannis raised his own hand, bringing a slightly forced smile to his own face. He would never be as good with the people as his wife was but he didn't need to be as long as he had her. As they approached their litter he glanced sideways at her and saw her still waving and smiling to the crowds. He took her hand then to help her into the litter and squeezed it tightly in his own for a moment. Hopefully she would understand from his gesture that he was grateful to her for everything she had done for him. He climbed up beside her then and gave the order for them to begin the journey to the Sept of Baelor. Thousands lined the streets, throwing posies and bouquets into the path of the litter and Erinne kept her smile wide and her hand waving to the people throughout. Stannis did his best to mirror her actions but he knew that the people were clamouring for his Queen more than they were for him, not that he could blame them. He took her free hand then and she turned her head to him, he smiled slightly wryly at her as he did not miss the faint look of surprise that crossed her features.

"Thank you," he told her lowly.

"For what?" she asked him as his icy eyes bored into hers.

"This," he said, inclining his head to the people.

"They're cheering for you," she told him.

"We both know that isn't true," he chuckled slightly.

"Perhaps," she smiled slightly, "for us then"

"For us," he agreed with a raised brow before lifting the back of her hand to his lips.

* * *

Willas quietly seethed as he watched Erinne carefully rearrange her skirts and kneel down at Stannis' side so the High Septon could anoint them both with the blessed oils. She was not going to be crowned Queen in her own right, merely crowned as Stannis' consort but it was still a higher honour than some Queen's had received in the past. King Robert had never bothered to anoint Cersei and many of the Targaryen's before him had not either. Stannis had insisted on Erinne being crowned with him though and he had almost broken his promise to stay away from her when Loras had told him the news. Quite why Stannis, cold, unfeeling Stannis, would want his wife crowned at his side was quite beyond him and it made him nervous. What if the man was not so unfeeling after all? The thought made him feel sick to his stomach. Erinne was his in all but name, it was his child swelling her belly and yet it was Stannis' side she was always stuck to. He had even seen them share smiles and laughter at dinner sometimes and it had him so envious he wanted to stand up and run Stannis through right there and then. He had all but begged Loras to go to her and appeal to her to let him come and see her just once. Just once so he would know that it was him that she still loved, him who she thought of and wanted to be with. The thought that she could have any feelings for Stannis was driving him slowly mad and it was all he could do to sit still in his seat and not do anything stupid like stand up and declare to everyone present that Erinne was his.

Gods he needed to pull himself together. He clenched his hands into fists then as Stannis rose to his feet and offered Erinne his hand so he could gently ease her up from the stone floor. Willas saw them exchange a smile then as the High Septon spread his arms out and lifted his head up to declare to the heaven's that Stannis was the King of Westeros and Erinne his Queen. Both stepped forward as he finished, Stannis still holding Erinne's hand as he gestured for her to seat herself down on one of the matching thrones. He lowered himself into his own once she was settled and finally let go of her hand as two knights came forward with their crowns sat on cushions. The High Septon took the larger one and blessed it before lowering it slowly down onto Stannis' head. Willas wanted to punch him when he saw the smug look of satisfaction set on his face but he settled for swallowing hard and digging his nails hard into his own palm. The crown was being lowered down onto Erinne's beautiful head now and he couldn't help but stare at how serene and perfect she looked as the High Septon blessed her health and happiness. She and Stannis shared another smile then that had Willas gritting his teeth and praying that it was all for show as she had assured him so many times that it was. Perhaps if he could just speak to her for a moment she could reassure him again. Loras had made it very clear that he was not to go near her though and he had promised to stay away if it was what she truly wanted. Anything for her, that was what he had always promised himself. He would just have to remind himself of it over and over to get himself through the rest of this damned coronation.

* * *

Erinne smiled politely as the servant bowed lowly to her before taking her almost full plate away. It wasn't that the food wasn't spectacular, everything was wonderful but her stomach was churning and it was all she could do not to be sick. She knew it was the baby affecting her, one of her handmaiden's had told her that most women experienced sickness in the early stages of pregnancy. Stannis' hand came to lay on top of hers then and she turned to look at him, seeing his expression that of concern as he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand in a soothing fashion.

"Are you not feeling well?" he asked her.

"It's to be expected with the baby," she said in response and he nodded his understanding.

"Of course," he said quietly, "perhaps it would be best if you retired?"

"I can't go yet, they have not yet raised the toast," she smiled at him.

"Then perhaps it should be done now," he said with a returning smile.

"Don't rush it on my account, this is your day," she protested.

"Our day," he corrected her, "and you and our child are far more important than any ceremony"

"Don't let the High Septon hear you say that," she said teasingly and he snorted slightly.

"No indeed," he agreed, moving his eyes from hers to find the squire who had the good wine they would use for the toast and beckoning him over.

Stannis watched Erinne as their glasses were filled, seeing her smiling serenely for the squire although he could tell the difference now between her genuine smiles and her false ones. Right now he knew she felt uncomfortable but she was still determined to act the perfect Queen. With him now she was more and more honest, he had felt her guard come down away from her and he was glad of it. While he was still getting used to showing her affection he could happily admit to himself that he very much enjoyed her company. She was more than just his wife now who he had had to take out of duty, he could admit that he cared for her very much. He felt more for Erinne than he had ever felt for Selyse in their years of marriage and it wasn't just because she was beautiful. She had a good heart, and deep down he wanted her goodness to rub off on him so he could stop being that unfeeling bastard that he knew people muttered about under their breath. With her he could at least try and change, he could try and be better. He stood then and raised his glass to her, seeing the look of surprise on her face and on many of the others at the high table. Davos frowned slightly but Stannis nodded to him reassuringly. It had been him who was supposed to raise the toast to the King of Westeros but Stannis felt the need to raise a toast of his own first.

"To new beginnings," he declared when those present had also risen to their feet and raised their glasses, "to a new future for Westeros and to my Queen"

"The Queen!" everyone echoed and Stannis brought his glass to Erinne's, the look of surprise in her eyes now mingled with genuine happiness.

They both raised their glasses to their lips then and it was in the next second that their whole world fell apart. Erinne's glass fell from her hand as her other came to clutch at her stomach, a cry of agony leaving her lips as her knees buckled. Stannis lurched forward at once, grabbing her under her arms before she could collapse to the floor. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she moaned out in pain and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her as he lowered her to the floor, barely hearing Davos' calls for the Maester. What was this? How was this happening? Her hand was clutching desperately at her stomach, her eyes wide and scared as she met his and his own hand came to still hers, his eyes drifting to her stomach. They were caught then by the dark stain of blood that was seeking through her dress and in that moment everything stopped being hazy and became crystal clear.

"The wine!" he snapped at Davos, "I want the Maester to check the wine!"

"Yes your Grace," Davos said, coming forward to pick up Stannis' own discarded glass.

"The … baby …" Erinne gasped out then and he moved his eyes back to hers, seeing the tears trailing down her cheeks as she convulsed in pain again.

"Lay still," he whispered to her, his hand coming to stroke her hair away from her face, "the Maester is coming … he's coming …"

"He's too late," she choked and he closed his eyes in despair, he knew his wife was likely right but he could not stand to believe it.

* * *

"Don't be such an idiot!" Loras snapped, slamming his brother against the wall and kicking his cane away from him.

"I need to see her!" Willas battled against him but Loras held him fast.

"You will do no such thing," he hissed, "do you want to see her killed?"

"I need to be with her … you saw, you saw what happened to her … the baby …" Willas protested.

"The baby is nothing to you! She is nothing to you! You need to get that into your head damn it!" Loras wanted to slap some sense into him but he restrained himself.

"They're everything to me," Willas whispered and Loras closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself before speaking again.

"I know," he said lowly, "but you can't go storming in there, you will betray us all and lose us all our heads. Do you not think she will be hurting enough without you blowing everything? You need to stay away from her Willas, you promised you would stay away"

"She needs me," Willas whispered and Loras could almost see his heart breaking in his eyes.

"She needs you to stay away," Loras whispered back and his brother's shoulders hunched in defeat and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Willas didn't struggle against him as Loras helped him back towards the sofa and lowered him back onto it. Once he was sat he put his head in his hands and Loras desperately searched in his mind for something reassuring to say. He had though losing Renly was pain but he had never seen such a look of sheer agony grace anyone's face as he had seen on his brother's when Erinne had collapsed in pain in the dining hall. Somehow Willas had managed to keep his composure and Loras had aided the men and the Maester in getting Erinne back up to her bed chamber. By then she was deathly pale and everyone had seen the blood, everyone knew that the Queen had lost the Prince or Princess she had been carrying. Loras hadn't been able to face telling Willas that there was no hope but he had seen it in his brother's eyes that he knew there was no chance that his child would live. Erinne would be heartbroken he knew that, Willas' pain was raw and real but her grief would be unimaginable. Loras remembered Margaery's desperation, remembered what she had sacrificed for the life that had taken root inside her and his own heart panged painfully. He didn't think a man could ever truly understand what a mother felt for her child, even when it was still in the womb. Erinne had always had such a smile on her face whenever the baby stirred inside her and Loras wanted to cry as he thought about how he would not see that special smile again.

"Is she on her own?" Willas' question snapped his mind away from his bleak thoughts.

"Stannis is with her," he replied after hesitating for a moment and he saw his brother's hands ball into fists against the sides of his head.

"I should be with her," Willas snarled.

"I know," Loras said, "but you can't be … I'm sorry Willas but you just can't be."

* * *

It was gone. Gone. Just like that. Gone. How could it be so quick? So final? The Maester had given his apologies in a grave tone and she had almost pulled herself up from the bed and slapped him. She didn't need his apologies nor his condolences. What were any of them even doing here? She didn't want them, she didn't want anyone. When her tears had come again she had curled up on her side and buried her head in her pillow and let them fall thick and fast. The ache was still stabbing at her stomach, a sharp jab every few moments that would be a painful reminder of what she had lost. What had been taken from her; forced out of her body. Someone had laced the wine with moon tea, the dose was strong so the Maester had told Stannis and she had not been able to look at her husband as he took the words in. Whoever had done this to her would die, she promised herself that as another pain stabbed at her. It was dulling now, the relief that the Maester had given her was obviously starting to take effect but it did nothing to ease the pain in her heart. Her baby was gone, no potion nor concoction would ever make that alright, the reality of that hit her hard as she lay there and she couldn't hold back the sob that rose in her throat.

When another escaped her she felt a hand on her back and she stupidly thought for a moment that Willas had come to her. She rolled onto her back then to see Stannis gazing down at her and guilt came crushing down on top of everything else as she saw the carefully masked devastation hiding in his eyes. Her emotion was uncontrollable then as she met his eyes and she turned away again and buried her face back into her pillow. She thought he would go but to her surprise she felt him shift onto the bed next to her, his hand coming almost hesitantly to stroke soothingly through her hair. He said nothing and she imagined that, like her, he had no words for what had happened. How could anyone have words for what had happened? She slowly began to calm as they stayed there in silence, his hand still stroking through her hair as her sobs finally subsided, the tears ebbing away as a sense of numbness began to take over her.

"I'll find them," he said quietly but menacingly then, "I will find whoever did this, I swear it to you"

"I want them to suffer," she said, her voice muffled by the pillow but he could hear the venom in her words and he nodded his head although she couldn't see him.

"They will," he promised and she shifted slightly so she could turn her head and look at him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"This was not your fault," he said firmly.

"I want it back," she said in a small voice so full of pain he thought he would break.

"I know," he nodded, swallowing hard.

"But it isn't coming back is it?" she whispered and he shook his head slowly.

"I should leave you to rest, the Maester said it will take a few days for you to recover," he said, making to move away from her but her hand enclosed around his wrist.

"Please don't leave me," she said, her eyes wide and shining as she met his.

"Erinne …" he started.

"Please," she said again, "I don't want to be alone"

"I'm here," he said then, moving back towards her and hesitantly laying down next to her, shifting his body so he could pull her back against his chest. Her hands came to clutch at his arm then as he carefully draped it over her; "I'm here," he said again, kissing the top of her head before inhaling the scent of her hair and steeling himself against the wave of emotions that were threatening to wash through him. He couldn't give in to them now when Erinne so clearly needed him to be strong for her; "I'm not going anywhere," he said then, "I promise you."

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry guys, that really was a tough one. Thanks for reading.

:)


	53. Arrivals

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you, hopefully it won't be as tough to read as the last one.

A quick note as I'm sure some of you are wondering, we will find out who poisoned Erinne, but it will be next chapter not this one.

Thanks to you all again, hope you enjoy the chapter.

:)

* * *

**Arrivals**

* * *

_Seagard_

* * *

"Greyjoy!" Shara called up the stairs, "Looks like your cavalry has arrived!"

Theon pulled himself off the bed at her words and moved a little too eagerly towards the door, almost falling over as his body was not used to such quick movements. His leg was healing nicely now but he could do little more than hobble. He had forgotten that in his eagerness to see a familiar face and had to grab hold of the doorframe to stop himself collapsing to the floor. When he steadied himself he moved a lot more slowly, his hand clinging to the bannister as he made his way down the steps. Shara was stood at the bottom just watching him as he took it one step at a time. She had refused to help him at any point and refused to let him walk with any kind of cane. It had frustrated him beyond belief at the time but he was glad of it now as her tough approach had made him work even harder to try and regain his strength and movement. He was still slow but at least he could still walk, he focused on that as he came to the bottom of the steps and allowed himself a smile of triumph as the sound of approaching hooves reached his ears.

He felt immense relief mingled with a sudden grip of fear as he thought of who was coming to him. Would Ser Ralf be angry with him? He got on well enough with his good-father but Theon wasn't stupid, he knew the man made more of an effort when Adele was around but she wouldn't be here this time. He swallowed hard then as the man himself appeared in the doorway and he fought the urge to take a step back as he crossed briskly towards him. Before Theon could say a word Ser Ralf had caught him up in a tight embrace that had relief flooding his body at once as he willed himself not to cry. Finally, he was so close to her, just under three weeks ride and he would have Adele in his arms again and be able to beg her forgiveness. Right now though he clung to her father and thanked the Gods over and over, out loud or in his head he didn't know. After what seemed like an age Ser Ralf shoved him gently away and Theon saw his eyes searching him and he swallowed hard, wondering if he would pass his good-father's appraisal.

"How's your leg?" Ser Ralf finally asked.

"Better," he nodded, his throat thick, "Adele?" he asked then, almost fearfully.

"Better now she knows you're coming home," Ser Ralf answered, "and fit to burst"

"Is the baby alright?" Theon asked him then, desperation evident in his voice.

"Aye," he nodded, "running out of room though, it will not be long now"

"No," Theon said faintly, dropping his eyes and feeling the shame rise up in him.

"It wasn't your fault lad," Ser Ralf said gently, "believe me, if it was I wouldn't be here"

"Does she hate me?" Theon asked, lifting his eyes to meet his good-father's again.

"She loves you," he told him, "loves you more than anything in this world, she has been sick with worry but she never once blamed you"

"I don't deserve her," Theon said, shaking his head.

"There was a time I would have agreed with you," Ser Ralf smiled slightly, "but I know what you mean to her, and I know she needs you back with her"

"Thank you," he nodded, swallowing hard and trying to compose himself.

"Best we get going then lad," Ser Ralf said, nodding his head and turning towards the door.

"Aye," Theon said faintly, his eyes drifting towards Shara; "thank you for everything"

"You're welcome," she smiled.

"I would have died if it weren't for you … I will never forget this," he said, hesitating before kissing her cheek lightly.

"You take care of yourself Greyjoy, and take care of that wife of yours," she said, patting his cheek.

"I will," he nodded, "believe me Shara, once I am back with her I will never leave her side again."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Adele made a noise somewhere between pain and frustration and fought the urge to slap Serra away as she mopped a damp cloth over her forehead. It had been hours. Hours, and still her baby was refusing to make an appearance. Maester Luwin had told her that everything was progressing as it should but she felt as though everything was progressing rather too slowly for her liking. Damn it all it hurt, she had known it would hurt but she had never imagined this much for so long. Dany squeezed her hand then as she moaned out in pain again and she gripped her back tightly as the Maester went to examine her again.

"How am I not dead?" she moaned.

"You'll get through this … you will, I promise," Dany tried to soothe her.

"Why won't it come out?!" Adele demanded of the Maester.

"It will soon," he reassured her, "on your next pain I want you to push Adele"

She could only nod then and Dany braced herself for the crushing her hand was going to get, remembering the agony that Margaery had been in and trying not to think of how many months she had left before it would be her turn. Today wasn't about her, it was about Adele and right now she likely felt as though she was being tortured. It didn't help that Theon was still gone and that there had been no word yet from her father. Ser Ralf had promised to send word as soon as he had collected Theon from Seagard so Adele would know exactly when they would be home but so far no word had come. Dany felt Adele's hand tighten around her own then and she knew that another pain had come for her and she let her other hand come and rub up and down her back as she gritted her teeth and pushed down hard.

"Perfect," Maester Luwin praised her, "keep it up."

Adele did as she was told. The pain was excruciating, never in her darkest moments had she thought that it would hurt this much. She had known it would hurt but not like this. Never like this. How could someone endure pain like this and survive it? Oh Gods, what if she died? What if she died without ever seeing Theon again, without holding her baby in her arms? Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Another pain came then and she pushed down automatically, her body had been urging her to push all afternoon but the Maester had forbidden her to do so until she was ready. Now he had given her permission it was all too easy to obey her body's commands even though doing so made her feel as though she was being torn in half.

"Once more," the Maester said then and again she did as she was told, the pain burning through her again before she finally felt the tiny body slide from her.

Her head collapsed back against the pillows then, her head swimming as pain still throbbing between her legs. It was far duller now and she could barely feel it through the haze of knowing that her baby had been born. Her baby. Why was her baby not crying? Panic came for her then and she pulled herself up sharply just as a loud cry pierced the quiet and she almost laughed in relief, a smile spreading across her face as she listened to the sound that told her the baby was alright.

"A strong, healthy boy," Maester Luwin beamed at her then as he wrapped the little bundle up.

"He's alright?" she breathed, "Truly alright?"

"Truly," he confirmed and her smile widened even more as she stretched her arms out to take him.

"Well done," Dany murmured then and she spared both her and Serra a glance and a swift smile before she moved her eyes to her son.

He was such a tiny little thing now she had him in her arms. His brow kept furrowing in confusion as he blinked up at her and she wondered at the tiny hand that poked out of his blankets, her finger going to lightly touch the smooth skin of the back of it. There was a sprinkling of dark hair atop his head and Adele could already imagine him being the image of Theon as he grew older. She bit her lip then to stop the tears welling up. She would not cry now, Theon was coming home and she had their son safe and secure in her arms. Her baby moved his little hand then and clamped his tiny fingers securely around the one she had lightly touched him with a moment before. In that moment she thought that her heart had exploded as she gazed down into his baby blue eyes. Never had anything been so perfect in the world. Never had anything been so right in that moment and she felt herself just fill with what she could only imagine was pure love.

* * *

_Moat Cailin_

* * *

Victarion seethed as the row boats were pulled ashore, Euron winking at him as he stamped up the beach towards him and he clenched his fists. Euron had been irritatingly chipper since he had been returned to Balon's good graces and only Victarion seemed able to understand that that was not a good thing. If something was making Euron happy then he was likely to be plotting something in that twisted mind of his that would make thousands of others miserable. They were tasked with taking Winterfell over and dispatching Theon's wife and as many Starks as they could get their hands on but Victarion would be his sword arm that Euron was looking to do more. Theon would likely be back behind the walls and Victarion could see quite clearly that Euron would not be in the least bit upset if the heir to the Iron Islands was sent to the Drowned God. That would make Euron heir and King now that Balon had declared independence from the Seven Kingdoms again. Victarion had tried to warn Balon but he wouldn't listen, part of Victarion was convinced that his brother was following his wife into madness and he dreaded to think how much further he would sink while they were away. He still pined for Asha and was still convinced that he could get Theon to come home if he destroyed any other option the boy had. Victarion wasn't stupid though, he imagined that Theon would rather die than be dragged back to Pyke.

"You shouldn't frown so much brother," Euron stated then, clapping him on the back.

"Why not? There is precious little to smile about," he replied coldly, wanting to shrug him away.

"Are you not looking forward to the thrill?" Euron asked him almost hungrily.

"The thrill?" Victarion repeated, raising his brows.

"I can see it now, the grappling hooks over the wall, the men dying … the women screaming; do you not live for it as I do?" he asked.

"You and I are very different people," Victarion snapped before stamping away.

Euron smirked as he walked away, getting under his brother's skin was one of his favourite past times and he couldn't help but push his limits. Truly though he was relishing the thought of taking Winterfell over, the thought of teaching those northern bastards a lesson. He could almost smell the smoke and it had him almost ravenous, what he needed now was a woman and he turned towards the town, wondering whether the men had brought any spoils back yet. After a few minutes a shout went up and he went to investigate, a smile spreading across his face as he took in the three young women. Two of them looked to be shaking as the Ironborn eyed them all hungrily but the other, while keeping her eyes on the ground, did not appear as frightened as the others.

"Only three?" Euron said, "You will be busy tonight girls …"

"First pick my Lord?" one of his men said and he smirked.

"Captain's rights," he agreed, coming forward to appraise the women.

He put his hand under the chin of the least frightened one and forced her head up so she looked at him. For a second he saw a glimmer of defiance in her eyes and it had him smiling widely. Northern girls were always a good fuck and he imagined this one could be quite the wild thing given a little persuasion.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Helena," she told him, meeting his eyes and he smiled again.

"Are you a maid Helena?" he asked then, his fingers trailing down her neck and towards her breasts.

"Yes," she said and he could feel her heart rate accelerate under his touch.

"Farmers daughter are you?" he asked then, circling her for a moment before fisting her skirts in one hand and pulling her closer to him.

"Yes," she said again, a slight shake in her voice now.

"I bet you never imagined being deflowered by a Lord," he breathed against her ear, gathering her skirts up so he could slide his hand under them.

"You don't look like a Lord," she told him.

"I don't fuck like one either," he growled at her, cupping his hand between her legs; "are you really a maid Helena?" he whispered.

"Yes," she almost whimpered and he pushed two fingers inside her.

"Well, well," he chuckled, "she might be telling the truth after all lads, a nice tight fit"

Laughter surrounded him then and he moved his eyes to Helena's as he rocked his fingers in and out of her a few times. She breathed in sharply but he could see it in her eyes that she was enjoying his touch despite herself. They always gave in in the end. Even his own brother's wife had given in in the end. Euron always got what he wanted. Always.

He slipped her fingers out of her then and grabbed her hand, dragging her away from the others. The camp for the night was still being set up and he had no patience to wait for his tent to be pitched so he pulled her down to the beach, eyeing some sand dunes that would at least partially conceal them from view. He had no qualms about fucking her out in the open but she might have some objection and it was always better when they were warmed up too. One thing he could say was that he had never forced a woman. Women had been reluctant but he had always been able to coax them with his touch and his tongue. Helena would be no different, she may be a maid but she was far from shy, he had seen the look in her eyes and he had already decided that he would not be sharing this one with any of the others. It was too soon to think about taking her back to Pyke as his salt wife but she could keep his cock warm whilst he was here in the North at least.

When they came to a halt he came behind her, sliding one of his hands down the front of her dress and letting a hand cup one of her supple breasts. It fit perfectly in his palm and he massaged it firmly as she stood stiff and unmoving. She was forcing herself to stay still but he could feel how ragged her breathing was as he leaned in to press kisses down her neck. He let his touch become more insistent then, twisting her hardening bud around in his fingers before pinching down just hard enough to make her gasp out. She leaned back into him then and he knew he had her, smirking against her neck before he bit down gently on her tender skin. His other hand came to pull up her skirts then before he encouraged her to her knees. He knelt down behind her and slipped his hand between her legs again feeling the beginning of her arousal. A slight whimper of pleasure left her lips then and he could see the blush rise on her cheeks as he pressed his thumb against the spot that would drive her wild and began to tease her. It wasn't long before she was soaking for him, her hips grinding into his touch, the motion causing her bottom to rub up against him and making him hard in an instant.

"Do you want me?" he growled into her ear and she tilted her head back and moaned softly as he continued to tease her.

"Yes," she whispered out her consent and he moved his hands to her hips, one coming to the small of her back to bend her over.

He pulled her skirts up over her hips then and swiftly unlaced his hardness, positioning himself behind her and rubbing her arousal over him before he pushed inside her. Her first cry was that of pain as he tore right through her innocence but he had warned her that he didn't fuck like a Lord and she was about to understand what that meant. His pace was relentless as he slammed himself as deeply into her as he could on each thrust, her cries of pain soon turning into moans of pleasure as he hit her harder and harder. When she rocked her hips back in time with his he almost smirked at her eagerness as she seemed to want to quicken their pace even more. She was tight and warm around him and he groaned out his appreciation as she seemed to close in even further around him. He loved to make a woman come, it made his own release all the more satisfying. Her arms gave out as she came to her peak and had he not had hold of her hips she would have collapsed down into the sand. As it was he kept going, thrusting into her for several moments more before spilling himself inside her with a growl of ultimate relief. When he pulled out of her she really did collapse down against the sand and he smirked as he laced himself back into his breeches.

"You'll be staying in my tent from now on," he told her.

"Yes my Lord," she agreed faintly, her breathing ragged.

"The other's will be instructed not to touch you," he continued.

"Thank you my Lord," she said.

"Don't keep me waiting," he said as he stood up, "I have plans for you tonight."

* * *

_Maidenpool_

* * *

Jaime was tense as he led the men towards the camp, it had been spotted over a league ago such was its size but only now was he close enough to see the banners fluttering overhead. The direwolves and the dragons he had expected, what he hadn't expected were the falcons and the spear pierced sun. Tyrion had mentioned in his letter that he was hopeful of gaining Dorne but he had made no mention of the Vale. As they came closer he saw the Tully fish as well but that was no surprise to him. There were several more banners from lesser houses but he could see men turning his way now and he knew that his lion banners may not be quite as welcome as the others had been. Tyrion had warned him that he had a lot of explaining to do and he knew he would have to answer to Aegon Targaryen about the death of the Mad King. He did hope, however, that he would not have to answer to him about the deaths of his mother and sister. That had not been his doing, he could never have done such a thing and it had not been him who had knighted those responsible. It had been his father who sent the men and Robert who rewarded them, he had merely stood there in his Kingsguard armour and said nothing. Would that make him culpable in Aegon's eyes? He didn't know, but he supposed there was only one way to find out.

They were on the outskirts of the camp now and he called him men to a halt, their banners driven deep into the earth. He would not take a guard with him, he didn't see the point. Only one person was coming with him into the heart of camp and he glanced sideways at her to see her gaze already on him and an expression of concern on her face. Jeyne had been looking at him like that more often than not the further they had come towards Maidenpool and there were only so many reassuring words he had for her. She was worried about the fate of her father and how she would be received after what she had had to endure. Jaime had tried to tell her it wouldn't matter, he couldn't speak of her father's character but he knew Ned Stark's well enough and he knew that Jeyne would be welcomed back to the North. He would miss he though, miss her more than he would ever let himself admit to her. It was selfish of him to want her to stay with him and the children and so he never voiced it. She deserved to go home after everything that had happened to her and he would not be the one to stand in her way no matter what it cost him.

He dismounted his horse then and handed the reins to a squire before helping Jeyne down from her own, unable to resist keeping his hands on her hips for a moment longer than necessary. When he let her go she looked up at him, a slight frown on her face which he smiled to before offering her his arm. She took it and they fell into step as they walked through the encampment of men. Jaime kept his eyes straight ahead and fixed on the two highest waving banners in the centre of camp. His mind was racing but he didn't let his fear and apprehension show on his face. He didn't know what to do, did he thrown himself on Aegon's mercy or did he calmly explain the truth? It was hardly in his nature to beg and deep down inside he had no regrets about killing Aerys. He would explain himself and hoped the young man understood, could see past the fact that the King had been his grandfather and realise the truth about him. It was undisputed that he had been mad, but only Jaime knew how mad he had truly been. He had thought to take the secret to his grave and yet here he was walking steadily closer to the point where he would have to tell it to men who were no friends of his. Gods he hoped Tyrion would be around, at least if his brother was there he could draw some strength from him. He was pulled out of his own brooding when Jeyne suddenly came to a halt at his side, his own steps stumbling as he hadn't expected it.

"Jeyne, what is it?" he asked her, seeing her wide eyes staring off towards something.

"I can't do this," she whispered as he followed her line of sight to see Littlefinger emerging from one of the central tents.

"Yes you can," he said furiously, "it's him who should be ashamed not you"

"Yet I am the one who is ruined, spoiled," she choked out and he grabbed her shoulders in his hands and forced her to look at him instead.

"You are not," he almost growled at her, "you are the sweetest, gentlest woman I have ever known and I will never let him make you feel any different"

"I'm ruined Jaime," she whispered, meeting his eyes.

"No more than I am," he smiled slightly, "we make quite the pair"

She smiled faintly back at him then and he had to fight to urge to kiss her. That had not gone well the last time and he determined that he wouldn't make an advance on her again and frighten her. She had enough bad memories without him adding to them. He could hear Littlefinger's voice then and it made his blood boil as a Northern accent answered him. How was it fair that Jeyne was here terrified and ashamed and yet he was allowed to strut around the camp and make small talk with whomever he pleased? Jaime let her go then and turned abruptly, his anger peaking when he saw that it was Robb Stark that Littlefinger was speaking with. He marched towards them then, Littlefinger seeing him first and frowning slightly at the look of pure fury on his face. Robb turned then but before he could open his mouth and say anything Jaime had raised his fist and smashed it into Littlefinger's face as hard as he could. The man staggered backwards, clutching his hands to his face and Jaime could see the blood trickling through his fingers. Jaime made to swing for him again but Robb grabbed hold of him as Jeyne shouted out to caution him.

"Let go Stark!" Jaime said furiously, shrugging away from him.

"Jaime don't!" Jeyne ran towards him and caught hold of his hand.

"Jeyne?" Robb said, staring between her and Jaime.

"Jaime leave him … please, you aren't here to fight," she implored him, ignoring Robb.

"Say the word and I'll kill him," Jaime whispered to her, meeting her eyes.

"You will not," Robb said then but again he was ignored.

"He's not worth it Jaime," Jeyne said soothingly, "please … don't get yourself into trouble before you've even properly arrived"

"Would someone like to explain?!" Robb demanded impatiently then and they finally looked at him.

"Why don't you explain?" Jaime sneered towards Littlefinger who was dabbing at his split lip with the hem of his sleeve.

"Have I done something to offend you Ser?" he asked sarcastically.

"Me?" Jaime almost laughed, "Look at her!" he demanded, pulling Jeyne to his side.

"I've never seen her before in my life," Littlefinger said, shrugging his shoulders.

"I said, _look at her!" _Jaime growled out.

"Why don't you give me a clue," he said mockingly and Jaime wanted to punch him again.

"Jeyne Poole," Jeyne spoke up then and Jaime saw the understanding cross his face although it was quickly veiled.

"You remember now?" Jaime snarled, "You remember what you did to her? You remember sending a frightened girl to be abused in a brothel when all she wanted to do was go home? Tell me Baelish, was it your own idea or my sweet sister's?"

"What's going on here?" a commanding voice joined them then before Littlefinger could answer.

"Ser Jaime's arrived," Robb said after a moment of silence.

"I see," came the reply and Jaime turned to see who could only be Aegon Targaryen, flanked by Ned Stark, a man Jaime didn't know and Tyrion.

"Tyrion," a relieved smile came to his face as he named his brother who looked rather exasperated.

"Jaime," he returned, his eyes sliding from him, to Jeyne and then to the bleeding Littlefinger; "you always did know how to make an impression brother."

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down, hope you liked it! Jaime and Aegon will have their little face off next chapter - couldn't fit it all in here!

:)


	54. Truth and Untruth

**A/N: **New chapter for you guys! Sorry I didn't post it up yesterday, I was otherwise engaged. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading as always!

:)

* * *

**Truth and Untruth**

* * *

_Maidenpool_

* * *

Thankfully Littlefinger hadn't come into the counsel tent with them, Jaime wasn't sure he would have been able to concentrate if he had. Jaime had been ushered in first and he had stood as a succession of stony faced men had entered after him. Ned Stark. Robb Stark. The man he didn't know. A man he assumed to be Edmure Tully and then Aegon himself. He bowed then as he should and sat when he was bid to. The others sat on the opposite side of the long table to himself and he had the distinct impression that he was on trial. Tyrion had not come in and he was slightly disappointed although he assumed that his brother would be taking care of Jeyne. He forced his mind away from her then and instead fixed his gaze on that of Aegon Targaryen.

"So," Aegon said, "would you care to explain why your first action on arrival was to attack the acting Lord of the Vale?"

"Lord of the Vale?" Jaime snorted, his brows raising in disbelief.

"He married my aunt Lysa," Robb said quietly then and Jaime saw Ned send him a sharp look.

"Of course he did," Jaime muttered, running his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Why?" Aegon asked him again and Jaime glanced towards Robb before he spoke, wondering if the young Stark would speak up for him.

"I was defending the honour of a lady," he said after a moment.

"What lady?" Aegon asked him.

"Jeyne Poole," Jaime told him and he saw Robb shift in his chair uncomfortably, something Aegon also saw from the corner of his eye.

"Sansa's companion?" he asked, turning his head to Robb who nodded.

"Aye," Robb spoke up.

"And why would her honour need defending from Lord Baelish?" Aegon asked.

"Because it is because of him her honour was stripped from her," Jaime snarled.

"What are you talking about?" Ned asked him then, a frown setting deep on his forehead.

"My … nephew," Jaime began, seeing them exchange a look at his words, "almost had her murdered in front of your daughter. Before that she had been sent by Littlefinger to work in one of his brothels. I'm sure you can imagine the rest Lord Stark. When Tyrion returned to the Capitol he took Jeyne into his own protection and when he was falsely imprisoned Varys took over her care. When I fled the Capitol as Stannis was approaching I was entrusted with her safety and she has been with me ever since. No harm has come to her in my care, but although I wish I could, I can never undo what he did to her. That, your Grace, is why I attacked him on my arrival, I am only sorry I could not have done more damage."

Aegon leaned back in his chair then and let out a long sigh as he appraised the man sat in front of him. He hadn't known what to expect from Jaime Lannister, having heard several conflicting reports. One look at Robb told him that Jaime was telling the truth about Jeyne Poole but he would still like to speak with the girl himself. He frowned slightly then as he continued eyeing the man who's own gaze was steady on him. No. He did not know what to make of Jaime Lannister at all.

"I would speak with him alone," he said after another moment of thought.

"Your Grace …" Griff began.

"You've confiscated his sword and there is a rather large table between us. Besides, if he did manage to kill me I doubt even that famed skill of his will see him get passed all our armies," Aegon said.

"As you wish your Grace," Griff sighed, sharing an exasperated look with Ned before all but Aegon rose from the table in unison.

"A moment Robb," Aegon said and Robb held back as the others filed out.

"What is it?" Robb asked him.

"I just want you to know that whatever I decide I will have Dany in my mind," he told him.

"She'll appreciate that," Robb replied.

"Can you see to it that a comfortable tent is set up for Jeyne Poole?" he asked then.

"Of course," Robb replied.

"Thank you," Aegon smiled at him and Robb bowed shortly before he made his way out of the tent; "wine?" he asked Jaime once they were alone.

"If you will," Jaime replied.

"I'm not trying to poison you," he chuckled, "it would be rather short sighted of me given the men you have brought here … besides, I very much want to hear what you have to say"

"I have much to say but I assume you want to discuss something specific," Jaime said wryly.

"Indeed," Aegon agreed, pouring out two measures and sliding one across to Jaime.

"What would you ask me your Grace?" he asked then, knowing the answer.

"My grandfather," Aegon said, meeting his eyes, "tell me the true reason you killed him, your brother seems to think you had good reason"

"I did," Jaime confirmed, taking a long drink from the wine; "Dornish?"

"A gift from my uncle," Aegon confirmed.

"Where is Oberyn? I haven't seen him for many years, not since he crippled that Tyrell boy," he said.

"He's on an errand," Aegon said lightly, "now … your reason?"

"Very well your Grace," Jaime sighed, draining his glass and taking a deep breath; "you are aware that your grandfather was … unbalanced …" he began and Aegon inclined his head; "it got worse every day, the madness inside him was all consuming by the end. He became obsessed with fire, wildfire to be more specific – you know what he did to the Starks?" Jaime raised his brows and again Aegon nodded. "That was just the start of it, when my father came to the gates of the Capitol Aerys was ready to burn it to the ground with all the people still inside. I knew about all of it as I stood there in silence day after day just doing my duty. He had three pyromancer's in all; Rossart, Belis and Gargius and they were given the task of igniting the wildfire – it had been placed in secret around the city. I killed Rossart first as he came from the throne room, I knew what he had been commanded to do as I knew that my father had entered the city. When he was dead I went to the King … he wanted to know whose blood was on my sword, if it was my father's. I told him the truth of it and he knew I had turned on him as well. He tried to run but I slit his throat … I had to … do you see that I had to? Half a million people live in King's Landing and he would have burned them all to ashes … I couldn't let him live and risk him giving the order to one of the others. After it was done with and Robert pardoned me I tracked the other two down … they stood no chance against me and when it was done I was satisfied that the threat of destruction was over. The Capitol still stands and no one had ever needed to know the true reason I killed Aerys. Kingslayer they call me, would they still mock me with that if they knew how many of their lives I had saved? There is the truth of it your Grace, the true reason I slayed the King I was sworn to protect, my greatest achievement."

Aegon stared at him as he finished, hearing the slight bitterness in his tone and seeing the shine in his eyes as he looked towards his empty glass instead of at Aegon as he had throughout his explanation. What could he say to that? He had no words and so instead he pulled Jaime's empty glass back towards him and poured him another measure before sliding it back across the table. Both of them remained in silence for the longest time then as Aegon sipped slowly on his own drink and tried to conjure up some words for the man in front of him.

"Why did you never tell the truth?" Aegon finally asked, frowning slightly.

"And confess that the arrogant, cold hearted Jaime Lannister actually gave a damn, I had a reputation to uphold," he said drily and Aegon almost smiled.

"Did anyone know?" Aegon persisted.

"Jeyne," Jaime replied, "I told Jeyne in one of my drunken stupors … no one else"

"Not even your sister?" he raised his brows.

"Not even my sister," Jaime chuckled, "I wondered when she would crop up"

"Is it true?" he asked.

"I fucked her behind her husband's back for years and got three children on her if that's what you're asking me," Jaime replied.

"It was," Aegon said quietly.

"I suppose that makes me a monster as well," he said bitterly.

"I'm a Targaryen, I can hardly judge you for fucking your sister," Aegon said and Jaime snorted.

"A fair point your Grace," he conceded.

"Did you know what they would do to my mother?" Aegon asked him then, his tone darkening.

"No," Jaime said, meeting his eyes, "I swear I knew nothing of it … and if I had known, believe me I would have done all I could to stop it"

"Did your father give the order?" Aegon asked.

"I never asked him, probably because I was too scared of the answer," Jaime replied.

"Where is the Mountain?" he asked then.

"Not with me I assure you," Jaime said, "no doubt he has returned to his seat and resumed his usual past times of rape and murder"

"I will put him down," Aegon hissed then.

"Good," Jaime said, meeting his eyes again.

"I was ready to hate you," Aegon told him then, "but luckily for you my intended bestowed some words of wisdom upon me. They saved your brother … and I am inclined to let them save you"

"I brought men," Jaime reminded him and he smiled faintly.

"And you will lead them," Aegon said and Jaime tried not to let it show on his face just how relieved he was at those words.

* * *

"Just as I suspected," Jeyne's voice sounded behind him, "you still have a head"

"You're a clever one," Jaime smiled at her, making to pour her a glass of wine.

"What is he like?" she asked him, taking the measure he held out to her.

"Gracious," Jaime said, "and I think there is a rather good sense of humour in there"

"You judge a King based on how good his japes are?" she raised her brows.

"What else?" he grinned and she smiled widely at him.

"You don't regret coming then?" she questioned him and his expression changed slightly.

"My only regret is that I'll have to leave you behind," he told her honestly, damn it all. Now one truth had escaped him they were all coming out.

"Jaime …" she breathed, setting down her wine and coming closer to him.

"Don't come any closer Jeyne," he warned her, "I'm not sure I'd be able to help myself"

"What is it you want from me?" she asked him, "Truly …"

"Everything," he whispered as she ignored his warning and came ever closer.

"But I'm nothing Jaime … you are Lord of the Westerlands and I am just a stewards daughter. I'm not even fit to be your whore," she whispered.

"Don't ever say that!" he told her sharply, grabbing her upper arms and pulling her closer to him.

"Jaime …" she breathed again, her heart pounding.

"Don't leave me Jeyne," he whispered, his lips so close to hers she could feel his warm breath on them.

"Is it not you leaving me?" she asked in return and he swallowed hard.

"Say you'll have me and I'll never let you go," he said.

"You are mad," she shook her head.

"Marry me," he implored her.

"Mad …" she repeated just before his lips touched to hers, gently coaxing her own into moving with his, the feel of them so soft on hers.

"Marry me," he said again between kisses, her hands snaking up over his shoulders now as he pressed her even closer to him.

"I should say no," she gasped out as his lips trailed down her jawline and to her neck as he manoeuvred her towards the makeshift bed.

"Say yes," he implored her, his hands finding the ties of her dress and pulling gently on them.

"Yes," she whispered as the material came apart, his hands coming to slide it down her shoulders.

"Yes?" he checked with her as her own hands came tentatively to untie the laces of his doublet.

"Yes," she said again, pulling them apart and he felt a sense of triumph as he shrugged out of it, her hands finding the bottom of his shirt and tugging it upwards.

He helped her with his shirt, seeing her falter slightly as she took in his bare chest and he suddenly wondered if this was the right thing to do. Surely he should marry her first? Before he could voice his misgivings her hands were on his chest and she was pressing kisses to his bare skin and he forgot about his moment of doubt and slid his hands up her bare arms to find the straps of her shift. Jeyne kicked her shoes away from her as he bared her body, unable to stop herself from shuddering slightly as he steered her back towards the bed. She dropped obediently down into the middle of it, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watched his eyes rake over her body. When he managed to tear his eyes from her he bent to unlace his boots and kick them away before he unfastened his breeches and tossed them aside as well. Her breathing was even more ragged as he climbed onto the bed and crawled up between her legs that she moved apart from him. His hand curled around one of her shins, lifting her leg to drape over his shoulder so he could press kisses up the length of it. He could hear her ragged breathing as they trailed their way up her inner thigh, his other hand coming to press her other thigh into the mattress as he buried his head between her legs.

Jeyne gasped out, her body almost convulsing with pleasure as Jaime continued to kiss and explore every inch of her most intimate part. Her own hands came to fist in his hair, encouraging him in his ministrations as her hips fought to rock up against him. He held her fast though as he continued on, sharp little cries coming from her mouth as he pushed her right to the brink. Gods she tasted so good, he savoured the taste of her on his tongue as she came to her height around him, a desperate moan leaving her mouth as indescribable pleasure crashed through every inch of her body. Her hands slackened their hold on his hair then and he continued his journey up her body, her leg slipping from his shoulder and wrapping instead around his waist, the other coming to mirror it on the other side. When he kissed at her breasts her nails clenched hard into the skin of his shoulders, the sting of them feeling good as they raked down his back. His lips moved steadily onwards then, trailing up along her neck and coming to capture her lips as he shifted his body so his hardness was pressed up against her. He felt her tense for a moment, her chest heaving even more rapidly against his own and he pulled his lips from hers so he could look down into her eyes.

"I would never hurt you Jeyne," he whispered.

"I know," she nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving his.

"If you tell me to stop I will," he said.

"I know," she said again, "but I don't want you to stop"

He smiled at her confession and slipped his length a short way inside her, seeing her eyes widen slightly at his movement. It took everything he had not to push the rest of the way into her and instead keep his eyes trained on hers. After a moment she nodded her head and he slipped slowly inside her until he was buried as deep as he could go. He rocked his hips then and she gasped out in surprise and pleasure, the sound bringing a smile to his lips as he allowed himself to move again. It wasn't long until she was moving with him, her hips rising up to meet his slow, deep thrusts. He had never had a sweeter moment in his life than the one he was experiencing here with Jeyne. Being joined with her felt so good and so right and keeping his eyes on hers as they continued to rock pleasure through one another was the most intense thing he had ever encountered. He moved his lips to within a fraction of hers, still holding her eyes but wanting to feel her warm, ragged breath on his own lips as their motions continued. When she began to tighten around him he fisted one of his hands in her hair, hearing her sharp cry as he rocked deeply into her again. It was one more thrust before she finished around him, the moan that escaped her sounding so sweet as she mumbled his name over and over as he came to his own end deep inside her.

When he felt he could move again he slipped out of her and flopped down on the other side of the bed, his arms coming to encourage her to shift into his arms. She rolled over and half dragged herself onto his chest, her breathing still ragged as her heart pounded in her chest. Jaime's own heart was pounding just as quickly as her own, she could hear it in her ear as she lay cradled in his arms. His fingers came to lightly trace up and down her spine then and her body stiffened of its own accord. He noticed her tension at once and lifted his head from the pillow, seeing the reason etched in fine scars across her back. His stomach churned uncomfortably, he didn't need to ask her to know where those scars had come from; she had clearly been whipped.

"Why did they do it?" he asked her gently.

"I said no," she said quietly and his heart almost broke.

"I will never let any harm come to you, I swear it," he told her.

"I know you won't," she said softly, "I know I'm safe with you Jaime."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Oh come on Varys, one of your birds must be singing," Loras snarled.

"Oh several of my birds are singing, but I do not think you would enjoy the tune," Varys replied.

"What are you talking about? Who did this to the Queen?!" Loras demanded.

"Think for a moment … it is not about who did this to the Queen, it is about who we want to have done this to the Queen," he said carefully.

"What are you talking about? Willas won't stand for a scapegoat, and neither will Stannis for that matter, we need the culprit put down!" Loras seethed.

"Aegon's armies are growing by the day, he will be unstoppable … at least in normal conditions. But Stannis keeps company that is capable of performing extraordinary feats, your sister stood witness to that did she not?" Varys raised his brows.

"The red witch?" Loras frowned.

"Jealous of the hold the Queen has over Stannis, desperate to take him back into her own control … perhaps she can see herself in Erinne Swann's place?" Varys suggested.

"Did she do this?!" Loras demanded.

"Oh no," Varys almost laughed, "for once the sorceress is innocent, although … poison is a woman's weapon …"

"Who?" Loras snarled, his patience hanging by a thread.

"Someone much closer to home," Varys told him meaningfully.

"No," he shook his head, not wanting to consider the pieces that were falling into place.

"It makes perfect sense if you think about it," Varys told him, "if the Queen birthed a healthy son the babe would usurp poor Shireen … and if Shireen is not to be Queen then your dear brother would never be King …"

"Oh Gods," Loras felt sick, dropping his head into his hands.

"I warned you this was a dangerous game, that innocents would suffer," Varys said darkly.

"This is twisted," Loras whispered, shaking his head.

"Yes it is," Varys agreed, "but if we are to ensure Aegon's victory then we must use it to our advantage."

* * *

Stannis approached Erinne's chambers slowly, part of him not even wanting to go to her. Being in his wife's presence had been torture since her miscarriage, every moment he looked at her heartbroken face made him even more angry and embittered towards whoever had done this to her. It made him sick that someone had forced the child from her body, had turned her into a shell of the vision she had been before. His counsel were advising him to move on from it, to go back to her bedchamber and put another child in her. The thought of even suggesting it to her made him cringe though. She was not the same as Selyse who had always demanded that they try again almost at once. Erinne was different, she was gentler, sweeter and altogether more broken over what had happened. The irony was not lost on Stannis that every day since they lost their baby he had slept with her in her chambers. Before that night he had never once slept at her side and now he did it always. No doubt people assumed that he was doing his best to get her pregnant again quickly but in truth he had made no move to bed her, he just held her in his arms until she finally fell asleep. Sometimes she would cry and he wouldn't know what to say to her, all he could do was keep her in his embrace and hope that the action would at least bring her some kind of comfort. He could hear raised voices as he approached her chamber and he sped up, crashing through the door without knocking just in time to see his wife jump to her feet, her body seemingly trembling with rage as she stared down at Melisandre.

"I don't want your red God!" she spat and Stannis flinched slightly; "How dare you come here and denounce my faith, denounce my Gods which are the only comfort I have?! How dare you?!"

"I am sorry if I offended you your Grace, I was merely trying to offer you some counsel," Melisandre said soothingly.

"I want nothing from you," Erinne said venomously.

"What is this?" Stannis asked then and she jumped, turning to look at him he saw guilt and defiance mixed in her eyes.

"I am afraid I may have inadvertently offended the Queen," Melisandre said softly.

"I worship the Seven," Erinne snapped then, the guilt in her eyes fading as she fixed them firmly on him; "you always promised me that would never change"

"I did," he agreed; "my Queen worships the Seven as is her right"

"Of course," Melisandre said, biting back the retort she truly wanted to snap out.

"I don't want _her _preaching about her red God to me," Erinne said defiantly.

"Perhaps you should leave," Stannis suggested, "I will not have my Queen upset any further"

"As you wish your Grace," Melisandre rose to her feet slowly.

"Your Grace," Loras' voice came from the door, "might I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course," Stannis said and Melisandre paused, both her and Erinne watching as Loras came forwards to whisper something in Stannis' ear.

Stannis paled as Loras continued whispering urgently in his ear and both women frowned slightly as his expression slowly began to darken, fury rising up in his eyes. Erinne wanted to say something but she was afraid of what Loras was saying. What was it that he could not say it out loud? Was Aegon coming now? Was his army at the gates? Her hands shook as her mind raced and she clenched them into fists at her sides as Stannis' expression became what she could only describe as thunderous.

"You're certain about this?" he asked Loras then in a calm voice that did not match his features.

"Quite certain your Grace," Loras said then, his eyes flickering to Erinne for a moment and her stomach lurched uncomfortably.

"My King?" Melisandre asked tentatively then and Stannis snapped his eyes to hers, the venom evident in his hard stare as he crossed slowly to her.

"How could you?" he asked her, wrapping one of his hands around her slender neck.

"My King?" she repeated, her voice strangled as he enclosed his hand further around her neck.

"Did you truly think you would take her place?" he hissed at her, squeezing harder.

"Stannis!" Erinne called then, her eyes wide as she looked between him and Loras.

"How could you betray me like this?!" he demanded as Melisandre's mouth gasped for air that she couldn't take in, no words coming from her now.

"She …" Erinne said faintly, understanding coming to her now, "she … her …"

"I should have known," he snarled as the light began to fade from her eyes, her hands that had been clawing at his own to no avail beginning to still.

When they fell away completely and her eyes stared blankly up at him he released his hold on her throat and let her body fall heavily to the floor. He was breathing heavily then as he stared down at her, unable to believe that the woman who had championed him for so long could betray him in such a way. When he finally moved his eyes from her he moved them to his wife who was staring at Melisandre's body with a total look of betrayal and anger in her eyes. He moved to her then and she snapped her eyes up to him and he saw the glimmer of fear in them for a second and he felt suddenly guilty. As if Erinne had not suffered enough, now she had just had to witness him choking the life out of a woman right in front of her.

"I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes.

"She killed my baby?" she questioned him, meeting his eyes, "She poisoned me?"

"Yes," he confirmed, nodding his head.

"Then you have nothing to be sorry for," she said firmly, tears shining in her eyes.

"I shouldn't have done it in front of you," he said, pulling her into his arms.

"I'm glad you did," she said, her voice muffled in his doublet, "I'm glad I saw her die"

"I'm sorry Erinne," he whispered into her hair, "I swear to you that no one will ever touch you again, no one will ever hurt us like this again."

* * *

**A/N: **I know I didn't name the culprit but I think enough was said for you guys to figure it out. Our red friend was innocent but I doubt many of you will mind that she's out of the picture! More soon guys.

:)


	55. Unprepared

**IMPORTANT A/N: **I think I may have been a little vague with the poisoning clues. For those of you who didn't guess it was Olenna Tyrell, perhaps I should have named her in Loras' thoughts or something. Anyway, now you know. Also, she had no idea the baby was Willas', she assumed it was Stannis'.

Sorry for any confusion, it's my bad!

Anyway, here's the new chapter for you lovely people.

:)

* * *

**Unprepared**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Catelyn sighed heavily as she read through the missive, it seemed the Ironborn had turned up at Moat Cailin again and White Harbour was calling for aid as most of its men had marched south with the armies. Dany looked at her concernedly as she massaged her temple with one hand as she tried to think of the best thing to do. They could spare men she supposed, if she sent half of their remaining forces then they should still be well defended should any threat come. She imagined if any threat were looming she would have heard of it by now. The only real threat could come from the south or from the Ironborn and it seemed she knew exactly where both of those threats were based. Winterfell could not be in any danger, Moat Cailin on the other hand was just a small town with no thick walls nor heavily guarded defences. If the Ironborn took hold there then they could easily begin to make their way steadily north, taking over the undefended towns and villages as they went. If Catelyn sent men now they could be driven back to the Iron Islands before they could take any more innocent lives nor steal any more innocent women away from their families. She let out another heavy sigh before turning her attention to Ser Rodrik who had brought the news for her.

"Take as many men as you see fit," she said, "I will not have the North seen as weak with Ned gone. Send them back to the sea where they belong"

"As you wish my Lady," he bowed lowly to her and she smiled for him as he made his way out.

"Ironborn again?" Dany questioned her.

"Likely another raiding party," she replied, "at least this time Theon is nowhere near them"

"We hope," Dany said, "the Kings Road runs right through Moat Cailin"

"Don't think of it," Catelyn urged her.

"Is it too much to want all of this to be over with?" Dany asked her sadly.

"It will be done," Catelyn said certainly, "Ned promised me … and he had never broken a promise to me in his life"

"I wish I could be as certain as you," she said, running her hands over her stomach.

"Have faith," Catelyn implored her, "Robb loves you, and Ned tells me that that is all a man needs to keep going in such times."

* * *

Jory was not happy but his uncle was insistent so all he could do was stand outside the smiths as the men gathered in the courtyard and quietly seethe. Gendry was hammering out yet another sword behind him and he found the rhythmic clanging of steel on steel oddly comforting. His good-son spent most of his waking hours at the smiths now as weapons needed to be constantly forged and sent down south. Jory glanced to the cart parked next to the smiths and saw it already half full of various weapons and armour. It meant more coin for Gendry which in turn meant that he and Serra would soon be moving into a home of their own. Jory knew it would happen sooner rather than later but Loral was in complete denial about it all. Serra, he knew, was excited at the prospect and his daughter's evident happiness meant that he didn't find the prospect of her leaving her family home quite as daunting as his wife did. His uncle came towards him then and he scowled at him, his irritation only increasing as he grinned widely in response.

"Come on lad, do you really want to go?" his uncle asked him.

"No I don't want to go, but I ought to go," Jory said.

"You're Captain of the Guards, the guards are here," Ser Rodrik reminded him.

"Aye, and they were here when I went with Lord Stark to the Capitol," he countered.

"And we all know how well that went," Ser Rodrik said darkly.

"Aye," Jory agreed, "but something doesn't feel right"

"It's war lad," his uncle said heavily, "of course it doesn't feel right"

"You shouldn't be going," Jory said again.

"I'm going Jory," he said firmly, "keep an eye on Beth for me"

"Aye, aye," Jory agreed, seeing there would be no reasoning with him.

"Wish me luck at least lad," Ser Rodrik chuckled.

"I wish you all the luck of the Gods," Jory said seriously, "all of you."

Jory watched him then as he ambled towards the waiting men and hauled himself up atop his horse. A feeling of unease and creeping dread was still niggling at Jory though. Something didn't feel right, he would stake his life on it. The men were leading out now, the courtyard full of the sounds of hooves beating against the cobblestones as they made their way under the gate, the sounds growing fainter and fainter until they were no more. Jory turned his attention to Gendry then as his good-son finally finished battering the sword he was working on into shape. Gendry seemed to examine it for a moment before he plunged it into the barrel of cold water so it hissed and spat before he pulled it back out and tossed it up onto the cart with the others.

"Will you be late again tonight?" Jory asked.

"More than like," Gendry said, wiping the back of his hand across his brow.

"I'll make sure Loral leaves some supper for you," he nodded.

"Thank you," Gendry said gratefully.

"It won't be forever lad," Jory said, clapping his shoulder.

"Sometimes I wonder that Serra even recognises me, I'm so rarely with her," he said bitterly.

"She loves you," Jory said, "and she knows you're just doing your duty"

"The sooner this war is over the better," Gendry snapped then turning back to his tools.

"Aye," Jory agreed, looking up at the darkening sky, "the sooner the better."

* * *

"So beautiful," Dany cooed at the baby in her arms before she looked up to meet Adele's tired eyes.

"Margaery was not wrong about sleep," Adele commented.

"Things will get easier when Theon and your father return," Dany soothed her.

"Yes, it shouldn't be more than a few days now," she smiled widely.

"I'm so glad for you," Dany smiled back at her.

"Thank you Dany, and thank you for coming to see me," Adele told her.

"It was my pleasure, but I should really go – it's got dark out," she said.

"Of course," Adele said, coming forward to shift her son out of Dany's arms.

"I'll see you soon," she promised, "and you know where I am should you ever need me"

"Thank you, truly," Adele said meaningfully.

"It's nothing," Dany smiled, "goodnight"

"Goodnight," Adele returned her gesture as Dany made her way from the house.

Once she was gone Adele rocked her baby slightly before laying him down in front of the fire and moving to turn the key in the lock. Theon had always insisted that she lock herself in at night when she was alone and she had always obliged him even though she thought it unnecessary. Now she had her son to think of though and she was more than happy to turn the key in the lock each night. She moved back to him then and scooped him up protectively into her arms, hushing him as he whimpered slightly, his eyelids drooping slightly which told her he was ready for sleep. Sleep was something she would rather like to get herself and so she lit a candle in the dying embers of the fire before carefully making her way up the stairs. She set it down on the bedside table when she entered her bedchamber and moved her son into his cradle where he squirmed around for a moment while she tucked his blankets tightly around him. By the time she had him well tucked in his eyes had closed, his little fists settled on either side of his head, his fingers twitching slightly every so often. She resisted the urge to touch them and instead unlaced her dress and tossed it over the back of the chair, her shift following it before she pulled her nightdress over her head. After she brushed her hair through she placed a few more logs on the fire and checked her baby was still sleeping soundly before she climbed into her own bed and closed her tired eyes.

It seemed like seconds before her eyes flew open as an almighty crash sounded against the front door. She sat bolt upright, her heart pounding as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, screams and cries reaching her ears now from outside the window. Something crashed against the door again then and she knew that someone was trying to get in. She scrambled out of bed then and went straight for the cradle where she scooped her miraculously still sleeping boy into her arms and fled out into the hallway. Oh Gods. She needed to hide him, what if they found him? In the next moment she hurried into the room that would be his when he was old enough to sleep alone, her eyes finding the dresser. Gods she hoped he would stay sleeping as she crossed to it and opened to doors, easing a blanket from the very top shelf and laying it down on the bottom to cushion him. She eased him inside then and closed her eyes for a moment, praying to the Gods that he wouldn't wake up, that they wouldn't find him. Somehow she managed to tear her eyes from him and close the doors of the dresser before she wrenched herself from the room, closing the door behind her before entering her own chamber and dragging the cradle out of her own room and into the washroom and behind the door where hopefully no one would look. She stood out on the landing then with her heart pounding as another crash hit the door followed by a splintering sound. In that moment she knew that her door would not hold out much longer and that she would soon be at the mercy of whoever had infiltrated Winterfell.

* * *

"That's it, quickly!" Catelyn urged her children and Margaery down the stairs, all of them pale and looking terrified.

"What will we do?" Sansa squeaked.

"Hide," her mother told her firmly, "you will all go down into the crypts"

"But …" Arya started.

"I want no buts from you," Catelyn said sharply, "you will go down into the crypts with Brienne"

"I'll keep them safe my Lady," Brienne said then, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

"But what about you?" Rickon asked.

"I will be just fine here," Catelyn managed to smile reassuringly for him.

"But …" Arya began again.

"Arya …" she began threateningly.

"Where's Dany?!" Arya shot in before her mother could finish.

"Dany," Catelyn repeated faintly, "oh Gods … Dany … where is she?!"

"She went out to see Adele and the baby," Margaery told her, clutching Steffon tight to her chest.

"Then we can only pray to the Gods she is still there," Catelyn said.

"I could go …" Arya started.

"Oh no you don't," her mother snarled, "it is bad enough you carry that thing on your hip without you trying to use it – crypts, now!"

* * *

Dany cursed herself as she slipped into the narrow alley between the stables and the kennels, her heart beating wildly as the swarms of men roamed the courtyard. Guards were coming from all sides and men were spilling from houses to try and contain those who had made their way over the walls. She should have gone straight back to the keep after seeing Adele but she had bumped into Serra on the way back as she was returning from the smiths after taking Gendry something to eat. They had got talking then and time had run away with them, it was only when she realised how dark and still it had become around them that she had bid Serra goodnight. Only a minute later the first scream had gone up and Dany had heard the clashing of swords. She had ran then as quickly as her legs would carry her towards the keep but when she reached the edge of the courtyard it was swarming with men clashing against one another, bodies littering the place and no clear way for her to get back home. Gods she hoped Serra had got back alright, the alternative didn't bear thinking about as she stood with her back pressed against the wall and her eyes fixed on the altercation in the courtyard.

When she heard the scuffle behind her she whipped her head around, seeing the kraken emblazoned on the man's armour had her darting from her hiding place. He grabbed her back though, his hand twisting and yanking her hair painfully as she cried out as he pulled her back against him. "Not so fast pretty girl," he snarled in her ear, his hot breath making her feel sick. She tried to elbow him but she only connected with his armour and he chuckled at her feeble attempts, pulling her back towards where she had originally been hiding. "Let's see what you're hiding under those furs shall we?" he asked her as he slammed her so hard against the wall that the breath was knocked from her. Oh Gods no. She could not let this man rape her, she couldn't. She was Robb's, she had always been Robb's and she would always ever be Robb's. Not only that but she had his child inside her and she was terrified both for herself and the tiny creature that fluttered so happily in her stomach. No. She would not let this happen. With every ounce of strength she had inside her she drew her knee up and aimed it squarely between his legs just as Theon had once taught her. The memory of it almost made her laugh then through her fear as he groaned out in pain and released the grip he had on her.

Again she darted away from him but again he came for her, this time cuffing her so hard around the back of the head that she was knocked to the floor. She put her hands out to break her fall, ignoring the sting of her palms and rolling quickly onto her back so she could see where he was. He was aiming a kick at her then and she rolled over onto her side, feeling his boot connect painfully with her back, a cry of pain escaping her lips. "You'll pay for that you bitch," he snarled at her and she drew her legs up around her, trying to protect her stomach as best she could, tensing her body for the blow that never came. After a few deep breaths she lifted her head just in time to see her attacker backing away from something she couldn't see. In the next instant the reason for his behaviour became clear as there was a loud screech followed by a stream of burning hot flames. Dany could have laughed out in relief then as Viserion came swooping into view, more flames leaving his mouth followed by sickening screams. She scrambled up to her feet then, backing towards the kennels, her eyes not leaving her dragon as he wreaked fiery hell on those Ironborn in the courtyard who were trying to break down the doors of the keep. Her heart was racing as she took in the scene, her hand dropping to her stomach, willing her baby to move so she could feel the reassuring flutter.

* * *

When the door finally crashed open Adele was still frozen on the landing, her eyes wide as she stared down the steps just waiting for the attackers to present themselves. It was one man and she was almost relieved he was not followed by another as he made his way up the stairs, his mouth splitting into a wide grin that made her feel sick as he advanced on her. She took a few shaking steps back away from him then as he slipped a dagger from his belt. "Looks like I picked the right house," he cackled nastily as she backed right into the wall; "where's your husband sweet thing?" he asked then and she saw his eyes lingering on her wedding band. She could only shake her head then and his smile widened even more. "Just you and me then?" he breathed, placing the blade to her throat; "don't scream lovely, it only makes me angry …"

She bit down on her lip then and closed her eyes, conjuring up the images of Theon and her son as the man's free hand trailed down her neck and chest until he could cup one of her breasts in his hand. Gods she wanted to scream but what if she woke her baby? This man would slit her throat if she let out one whimper anyway and then what would happen to her precious boy? No, she had to live. She would suffer anything for her baby. She would let this man take whatever he wanted from her, so long as he left her with her life she would endure every sickening touch of his hand. He pulled her away from the wall then and pulled her roughly into her room. _Oh Gods. No. Not here. Not here._ Not here in this bed where she had a thousand wonderful memories of making love to Theon, of him holding her in his arms, of her telling him she was pregnant with his child. _Not here. Not here. Oh Gods, please not here._ Her head was screaming but her mouth stayed silent as he pressed his finger against his lips in a gesture of silence. She nodded her head as best she could with his blade still pressed up against her throat and he smiled nastily again before slowly moving it away from her. "Take off your clothes," he told her then and her hands trembled as she slowly moved them to the straps of her nightgown, peeling them from her shoulders, her eyes closing as she let the material fall away from her.

She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see the disgusting man looking her up and down. She didn't want to see another man appraising her bare body, she didn't want to see the look in his eyes. Theon was the only man who had ever seen her like this, the only man she had ever wanted to see her like this and now that was ruined. She would be ruined. Gods, what would she be when Theon came back? Would she even be alive? His rough hands came to her then and he pushed her down onto the bed, his weight pressing down against her after a moment, his hands forcing her legs apart. _Forgive me Theon, please forgive me Theon, I did it for our son. I did it to save our precious boy. _His lips were at her neck now, a hand at her breast as the other sought its way between them and she knew that he was fumbling to undo his laces. In the next second he was hard against her thigh and she had to open her eyes to let the tears spill from them, her teeth biting down so hard against her bottom lip that she could taste blood in her mouth. She watched as he took himself into his hand, guiding himself to her and she swallowed down the bile and the scream that were welling in her throat. A cry pierced the quiet then and he froze, his eyes going from her to the door. Damn it, why had he not just slept? Why had he woken now? He pushed slightly away from her then and panic rose up in her, replaced in an instant with a sense of hope as she noticed in his distraction that he had left his dagger there on the bed. In a second it was in her hand and before he could do more than snap his eyes back to her she had driven it up and buried it in the side of his neck.

Blood spilled everywhere as he choked out, a sickening noise bubbling in the back of his throat for a moment before he collapsed down against her. Adele shoved at him with all her strength, his blood seeping out onto her bare skin as she managed to slide out from underneath him, her hands shaking as she crawled along the floor, tugging Theon's robe down from where it had been slung over the back of one of the chairs since he had left. She needed him now, needed his reassuring scent as she pulled it around her, hiding the blood and hiding her rising sense of shame. Her baby's cries were intensifying now and she forced herself to her feet, forcing one foot in front of the other as she made her way into the next room. Her hands were still shaking as she came to the dresser and opened the doors and sank to her knees, pulling him into her arms and holding him close, her body slumping to the side, her back leaning against the wall as she held her son to her, sobbing into the blankets that he was wrapped in as he calmed against her chest.

* * *

Serra screamed as she was pushed back against the table, plates and glasses falling to the floor as the man's hands pushed her down, grabbing at her skirts as she kicked out at him, scratched at his hands as he forced himself between her legs. Another man had pounded up the stairs, she had seen him go and she had screamed for her mother who had retired an hour earlier. Now though she could focus on nothing but the man looming above her with a sickening smile on his face. She would not give up without a fight, she promised herself that as she moved her hands to try and push him away from her, desperately trying to twist and buck her body out of his grip but he was strong and he was laughing at her. That infuriated her even more and she let out a string of curses which only served to make him even more rough with her, slamming his hand against her throat and pressing down. She spluttered then, desperate for air as he increased the pressure on her, her nails clawing at his hand seemingly ineffective. Through the haze she thought she heard a woman scream and she tried to form words, tried to call for her mother but nothing came out as her vision blurred to the extent that she could no longer see clearly, the pressure on her throat choking the life from her.

In the next second she felt she could breathe again and she took in a great gulp of air before a coughing fit took over her as she hauled herself up from the table. She could scarce believe her eyes when she saw Joren stood there with one of the knives their mother used to cook in his hand dripping with blood. The man who had attacked her lay moaning in agony on the floor, a dark stain of blood quickly spreading out from under him which told Serra that he had been stabbed in the back. She opened her mouth then to thank her brother but before she could another man barrelled in from what seemed like nowhere, knocking Joren to the floor.

"Joren!" she screamed as she heard others crashing into the room, friend or foe she didn't know.

Friend, it seemed was the answer as Gendry darted towards Joren, grabbing the man who had knocked him down by the hair and slicing his sword through his neck. The blood sprayed everywhere and Serra had to turn away, her head spinning and her stomach churning so horribly she thought she might be sick. In the next second hands were gently cupping her face, encouraging her to look up. When she did she was looking into Gendry's eyes, worry etching every inch of his face and making him appear far older than his years.

"Did they hurt you?" he whispered.

"No," she managed to gasp out, feeling her throat throbbing, her hand going to massage it.

"They tried to," he concluded then and she could only nod, her throat feeling red raw.

"Joren?" she whispered after a moment.

"Just fine," Gendry promised her.

"My mother?" she asked then and she saw the look in Gendry's eyes before he could hide it.

"She …" he started.

"Where's my mother Gendry?" she asked again, fear coursing through her.

"Your father's with her," he answered her and she shoved away from him in an instant, making her way towards the door that led to the hallway.

Her footsteps faltered as the scene came into view; her father on his knees at the foot of the stairs with her mother's head cradled in his lap as he bent over her, his body shaking with sobs. No. This could not be real. How could any of this be real? Serra's own knees gave out then but before she could hit the floor arms came to hold her up, easing her gently down to the floor. Her own body wracked with sobs then as Gendry held tightly to her, his arms refusing to let her body crumple to the floor as it was aching to do. It felt like someone had reached in and squeezed her heart so tightly it had burst as she could not tear her eyes away from her mother's still face, her eyes that were usually so bright and alive staring back at her but seeing nothing.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry ... I got mean again.

For those wondering where the hell Euron and Victarion were I say patience, all will be revealed.

More soon!

:)


	56. Fresh Starts and Aching Hearts

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter for you all. I'm away for a week as of tomorrow so the next one will be a full week away (sorry about that!) Hopefully this will be enough to sustain you for now. Anyway, hope you all enjoy, any comment would be awesome as ever.

See you in a week!

:)

* * *

**Fresh Starts and Aching Hearts**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

The Godswood had been fit to burst but it was just the five of them now in the clearing just beyond it where the dead of Winterfell who did not bear the name Stark were buried. Jory stared down at the freshly dug earth and tried to get his head around the fact that she was underneath it all. Nineteen years of his life snuffed out in a single moment, the one person who understood him best in the world gone. Loral, his sweet, loving Loral who he had fallen for the moment he had taken her hand and helped her from the boat that had come from Dragonstone. She had given him such a grateful smile and told him that she would be happy never to step foot on a boat again and he had laughed at her and said something stupid that had made her smile again. He loved it when she smiled, loved it when he was the reason for it. He would never see that smile again now at it hurt him more than he could describe, his heart aching for his wife who had been taken from him and their children far too soon. They were supposed to grow old together, watch their children flourish and dote on their grandchildren. How was it fair that that would never happen?

He tore his eyes from the mound then and looked to his children. Serra stood with Gendry's arm draped tightly around her shoulders, tears streaming down her face as she stared at the spot where her mother had been buried. Tears had tracked Joren's face too but his eyes were dry now as he moved them to meet Jory's. Jory tried to smile for him then and his son tried to return it, the gesture seemed to cost both of them a lot of effort. His eyes took in the angry bruises on his daughter's neck then and he swallowed hard, trying not to think about how close he had come to losing his children as well as his wife. Hatred coursed through his blood for those bastard Ironborn who had come. Hundreds had died defending Winterfell and more girls and women than he cared to think about had been dishonoured and shamed. He felt pressure on his hand then and turned his eyes from his children to Dany on his other side, seeing her looking concernedly up at him. His lips could not turn up for her though and he shook his head in despair at Loral's surrogate daughter, seeing her own eyes shining with tears as she increased the pressure on his hand.

"She's at peace," Dany whispered to him, "you have to believe that"

"I don't want her at peace, I want her here with me," he returned harshly.

"I know," she said, her voice pained.

"I don't know how to be without her, I've forgotten how to be without her," he confessed.

"You'll remember," she soothed, "it will take time but you will remember"

"I wish I could believe that," he said, shaking his head.

"You have to believe that," she said fiercely, "you have to believe it for Serra and Joren … they know nothing of life without her, you have to show them they can be without her"

"What if I'm not good enough?" he asked her fearfully.

"They love you," she told him, "you all love one another and that is what will get you through this, I promise you."

* * *

"Adele?!" Theon shouted, limping as quickly as his legs would allow him towards the stairs; "Adele?!"

"I don't think she's here lad," Ser Ralf said, trying to keep the fear from his voice as Theon struggled up the stairs.

Winterfell had been in a state of turmoil as they had ridden back under the gates and no one seemed able to tell him where his daughter was or even if she was alive. He had torn to the keep only to find it empty, one of the servants telling him that someone was being laid to rest in the Godswood. He had tried not to think about whose poor soul had departed the world as he demanded Theon go to his own home and look for her while he went to his. Adele was not there and there was no sign that she had been since he had left and so he had torn back along the streets towards the home she had shared with Theon, finding the door off its hinges and in splinters, Theon stood staring at it before he had snapped to his senses and started shouting for her. Ser Ralf went to follow him up the stairs then, catching up to him as he hobbled towards the chamber door. He wanted to be sick when Theon pushed open the door. The blood. Oh Gods where had all that blood come from? Theon seemed to sway slightly then and he came forward to steady him as a roar of disbelief came from the mouth of his good-son.

"Adele!" he screamed out then and Ser Ralf could do nothing but pull him into his arms, numbness seeking into every pore of his being.

"Theon?" her voice came from below them then, followed by a few scuffling footsteps.

Theon pushed away from him in a second and practically threw himself down the stairs, his heart pounding madly in his chest as he almost fell down the last three and into her presence. Gods, was she even real? She looked too beautiful to even be real as she stood there with her eyes wide as she stared at him. "Adele?" he whispered then, suddenly afraid. How long had he been without this perfect creature? Would she still love him the same way? Her head nodded then and in the next instant she had taken the few steps to close the gap between them and he pulled her into his arms as she sobbed against his chest. He ran his hands through her hair, feeling it just as soft as he remembered, inhaling the scent of her that was still just as intoxicating. The presence of Ser Ralf vaguely registered with him as he rocked her gently in his arms, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to stop himself from breaking down the way she was. It took him another moment to realise that she was here alone and that she wasn't round with child. He took in the black of her dress then and fear rose up in him again; "the baby?" he asked her fearfully and she pulled a slight way away from him.

"He's at the keep with Margaery," she told him, "she didn't really know the Cassel's and I didn't want to take him with me … not to something like that. I thought I'd come here on the way back and see how much needs to be fixed up but then … you … you're back"

"I'm back," he confirmed, gazing into her eyes, "and I will never leave you again … Gods Adele, I don't even know what to ask you first … he? A boy?"

"A boy," she nodded, a smile finally gracing her lips, "a perfect boy; Darion like we agreed"

"I'm sorry I wasn't here … I'm so sorry I wasn't here … Gods, please forgive me," he whispered into her hair as he pulled her back against his chest.

"You're here now," she whispered back, her hands clenching tightly into the back of his doublet.

"What happened here? Upstairs?" her father asked then and Theon felt her tense in his arms.

"Adele?" he asked her in concern, feeling sick again as she pulled away from his embrace and avoided his eyes.

"What happened sweetheart?" Ser Ralf asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Nothing in the end," she forced out but Theon could see her hands shaking.

"Did they hurt you?" he whispered, bile rising up in his throat, "Did they touch you?"

"It was one man," she said, her eyes still not meeting his, "I hid Darion away and I … I promised myself I would do anything I had to …"

"Anything?" Ser Ralf whispered as Theon stared at her in horror.

"If he hadn't cried when he did … if that _monster _hadn't been distracted I … I would have … I …" she couldn't finish, tears escaping her again as her hands continued to shake.

"It's alright," Theon managed to get out, slightly dazed as he pulled her back into his arms, "it's all alright I promise … it's alright"

"He touched me Theon," she choked out, "he had me there and I could do nothing … I could do nothing but pray for it to be over but … but he never … I never … I'm yours, I'm still yours …"

"I know," he said, tightening his hold on her, "you'll always be mine no matter what, you're mine Adele, and I'm yours."

* * *

It seemed to take forever to calm Adele down and for her to regain her composure but once she had she demanded they go at once to the keep to fetch their son. Theon hadn't argued with her, he wanted to see his son more than anything, wanted to see him with his own eyes so he could believe that he was real. Ser Ralf had declined to come with them, insisting it was a moment he didn't want to intrude on and telling them that he would start making inquiries into having the house all fixed up again. He had set off to find the carpenter after that leaving Theon and Adele to make their way to the keep together. Their progress was slow given Theon's injured leg but she made no complaint as she walked at his speed, her arm tucked firmly into the crook of his elbow. As they came up the steps Adele faltered slightly at the top and Theon turned to look at her in concern as she slipped her hand from his arm, moving them both instead to his hands, her eyes finding his.

"I cannot believe I have you back," she whispered, stepping closer to him, "and I cannot believe I have neglected to tell you I love you"

"I'm guilty of that as well," he breathed as her lips came closer to his, leaning forward slightly so he could capture them in a slow kiss for a long moment. When he pulled away he was relieved to see a smile adorning her face, Gods he had missed that smile; "I love you Adele," he told her then, holding her eyes with his own and seeing her smile widen.

"Good," she said, stepping back again, "now I think it passed time you met your son"

"Indeed," he agreed as her hand slipped into his elbow again, his heart pounding furiously.

When they made it up the stairs Adele guided him down the hallways to what he knew to be one of the guest chambers and knocked softly at the door. Margaery answered after a moment and the two women shared their greetings before Adele introduced Theon who she remembered vaguely meeting before he had ridden out to Moat Cailin. She let them inside then and Adele went straight to the bed where she could hear two babies gurgling happily, a smile spreading across her face as she looked down on them, scooping the smaller of the two into her arms after a moment and approaching Theon who seemed frozen to the spot. Margaery picked Steffon up then and retreated to the far side of the room so she could give them some privacy and Adele sent her a grateful smile before turning her attention back to her husband.

"My boy?" he whispered disbelievingly then and she smiled widely, tears stinging her eyes.

"Undoubtedly," she whispered back, shifting his blankets back so Theon could see him properly.

"Gods," he choked out, emotion overwhelming him.

"Do you want to hold him?" Adele asked him softly.

"I think I'd best sit down first," he laughed shakily, taking a few steps back and lowering himself onto the sofa, Adele seating herself next to him.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"He's so small," Theon breathed, "I don't want to hurt him …"

"You won't," she assured him, "hold your arms like I am … make sure you support his head"

He could only nod then as he did as she bid him and she shifted the baby slowly into his arms as he stared down at the tiny little creature that was his son. Darion looked exactly like him but Theon could swear than he had Adele's nose, and even her ears. His eyes were bright and alert as he looked up at him, the dark pools of them just like the ones that stared back at Theon in the mirror. Slowly Theon moved a finger to stroke down his cheek, wondering at how soft and delicate it felt under his touch. His son let out a happy gurgle then and he couldn't help the smile of wonder that lit up his eyes on hearing it. Gods. He could scarce believe that any of this was real, that he was truly back at Winterfell where he belonged with his wife at his side and his son in his arms. Part of him had thought that he would never make it back and part of him still felt as though this was all some wonderful dream that he hadn't yet woken up from. He turned to look at Adele then and saw her smiling widely, her eyes shining with tears.

"Are you alright?" she whispered, her hand coming to rest gently on his knee.

"Perfect," he replied, "I have never felt so perfect in my entire life."

* * *

_Maidenpool_

* * *

It was dark by the time they made their way towards camp and Jon looked sideways at Val and saw her chewing worriedly at her bottom lip. There had been a point in their journey when she had begged Jon to let her go back to the North when they landed, to let her go back to the Gift as she did not think she could stand seeing Aegon again. Jon had seen the pain in her eyes and it had killed him to refuse her but imagining his brother's devastation when he arrived without her had hardened his resolve and he had told her that she was coming with them to Maidenpool, like it or not. She had been disappointed but had accepted his decision with reasonably good grace but Jon was still keeping a close eye on her, he wouldn't put it passed her to try and bolt. They were on the outskirts of the camp now but no one paid them much mind as most of the men sat in small groups; some cooking over fires, others sharing a drink and others a jape. Jon saw Val's hand tighten around the reins of her horse as they came closer to the centre but she made no move to dig her heels in and gallop off. Perhaps it had crossed her mind but she knew in her heart that she would not get far.

When they came to a halt Jon dismounted and helped her down. She said nothing to him, her eyes drifting instead to the Targaryen banners fluttering in the light breeze. Jon wondered where exactly Aegon was but decided after a moment that it would probably be best to let Val get cleaned up and fed before any big reunion. He turned to Oberyn then and the older man came closer to him, raising his brows expectantly.

"I'm taking her to Aegon's tent so she can get cleaned up and have a decent meal," he began, "they're probably in counsel if you want to join them. He'll know from your presence that we're back but for the love of the Gods, do not tell him she in his tent in front of Robb or Lord Stark"

"Of course not," Oberyn smirked.

"I mean it," Jon said warningly, knowing the Prince would no doubt find it highly amusing to watch the reaction to that specific piece of information.

"Would I?" he asked innocently.

"I think we both know the answer to that," Jon raised a brow, "and Sansa is my sister too … I'm not best pleased about any of this either"

"I'll tell him when we are alone," Oberyn promised.

"Good," Jon said, holding his eyes for a long moment before turning back to Val and ushering her towards the tent he knew belonged to Aegon.

He gestured for he to go before him when they reached it, holding the flap open for her to duck underneath before following her inside. Thankfully it was empty, even Bran wasn't around in his role as squire and Jon assumed he had likely been asked to be the cup bearer for the meeting. Now he had arrived back with Val and Oberyn he imagined that it wouldn't be long before they were marching on the Capitol. A whine came from behind him then and he turned to see Ghost slinking into the tent and he grinned at him; he had missed his faithful beast when he had been at sea.

"Hello you," he greeted and Ghost nudged his great head against his palm in his own greeting; "where's the other one?" he asked, hearing a loud chirruping after a moment followed by two muffled thumps outside the tent.

"Are they the dragons?" Val asked him then, her face drained of colour.

"Don't worry, they won't touch you," Jon assured her before pulling back the flap of the tent again.

Rhaenar reared up on his hind legs at once, flapping his wings and chirping happily as he hopped from one foot to the other. Rhaegal next to him gave one chirp of greeting, a few whispers of smoke escaping his nostrils before he stalked right passed Jon and Val who backed away several paces, and hopped up onto the sofa in Aegon's tent, curling up and closing his eyes almost at once. Jon grinned widely at the look of shock on Val's face before he reached his hand out to pet Rhaenar for a moment, his dragon almost purring in contentment before Jon moved his hand away and he spread his wings again, launching himself up into the night sky. Ghost looked up at the movement before he looked back at Jon and gave him an almost exasperated look before he turned tail and went to settle down next to Grey Wind who was curled up outside Robb's tent. It seemed everyone was ready for bed and Jon could feel the exhaustion in his own bones now he thought of rest. Best he take care of Val first though.

"I'll get some of the girls to bring water for a bath," he told her, "and I'll make sure there's a meal brought for you, no doubt you could use it"

"Thank you Jon," she said, meeting his eyes, "for everything"

"It'll be alright you know," he promised her, "I don't know how … but it will."

* * *

Aegon's heart felt as though it was beating in his throat as he approached his tent, his mind racing with a thousand different thoughts at once as he hesitated just outside. He had told Bran to go straight to bed, that he would have no more need of him until the morning. Now he just needed to pull himself together and go in there and face her. What would she say to him? Would she despise him for what his actions had done to her? Would she blame him for what had befallen her? Would she resent him for the bastard he had planted in her belly? So may questions and only one way for him to find out the answer. He took a deep breath then and pulled the flap of the tent aside and ducked underneath it. At first glance the tent was empty and panic rose up in him until he heard the light splashing of water and realised that she must be bathing behind the screen. He took a few steadying breaths then and walked to the side cabinet to pour himself a large measure of wine to steady his nerves. After taking a long drink he turned back around and froze when he saw her, her hair still wet from the bath, her skin flushed and beads of water still clinging to her skin where it was exposed by the loose tying of her robe. She flushed even more brightly as he stared at her so intensely and pulled the robe tighter about her, tying it securely. He crossed to her then as his eyes found the slight roundness of her stomach, the reality of it hitting him then as he came to a halt just in front of her, his hand hesitating just a fraction from the swell of her belly.

"It's alright," she whispered, the words sounding deafening in the silence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back, his hand coming to gently caress her stomach.

"Don't apologise for our child," she said quietly but firmly, and he looked up to meet her eyes.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said.

"It would be easier for you if it didn't exist," she stated then, her eyes shining.

"It would," he agreed, "but it does exist and I would not wish it away"

"Then what?" she asked him almost helplessly.

"I want to be a father," he told her.

"You will have proper children with your Stark girl," she said bitterly, turning away from him.

"The child inside you is mine as well," he shot back heatedly.

"And would you take it away from me?" she demanded, "I don't belong here in the south, you know that, I want to go back to the North"

"What about the baby? Do you not think it needs its father?!" he snapped back.

"I do not think it needs to grow up with a bastard's name, shunned by its true siblings and despised by your wife," she snarled.

"Sansa isn't like that," he said, shaking his head.

"Sansa now? What happened to the Stark girl? Was it truly so easy to forget about me?" she asked.

"Forget you?! I would have risked it all for you, my brother risked his life for you, to bring you back safely!" he almost shouted at her.

"Why? So you could keep a close eye on me until the child is born? Then what, toss me aside like all men toss aside their whores when they tire of them?" she snapped.

"You were not my whore," he whispered, trying to take one of her hands.

"What was I then?!" she demanded, snatching it back.

"My lover," he said, his eyes finding hers, "you were my lover … I loved you"

"Loved?" she said, the bitterness seeking its way into her voice again.

"Love," he said softly, his hand coming to stroke down her cheek, "I still love you … I love you"

"You can't," she whispered.

"I shouldn't," he agreed, "but I cannot help it … thinking I would never see you again was bad enough, but thinking of you hurt … worse … it drove me almost mad"

"And what about _Sansa?"_ she asked mockingly and he narrowed his eyes at her tone.

"She is to be my wife, at least show her a little respect, it is the least she deserves after what I have already put her through," he snapped.

"And there it is," she whispered sadly.

"There what is?" he frowned at her.

"She comes first already, she will always come before me just as any child that she bears you will come before this one," she said, cradling her stomach protectively.

"It isn't like that," he said, shaking his head.

"It is exactly like that," she said, meeting his eyes, "that's the way it is meant to be, the way it has always been … you told me you couldn't promise me anything. Don't feel bad Aegon … we both knew it was just fucking, a child was never supposed to come into it. You will marry Sansa and she will give you a dozen true born babes you can name Princes and Princesses; just let me go home"

"I can't do that," he said shaking his head and her lips twitched up slightly.

"Then at least show me to my own tent, we do not want people to talk," she said, turning away from him and he knew there was no point in him saying any more.

* * *

"When I left Jeyne in your care I intended for you to look after her, not fall in love with her," Tyrion said, staring at Jaime almost furiously.

"Are you angry with me little brother?" Jaime asked him with a raised brow.

"Surprised," Tyrion said and Jaime heard the suspicion and accusation in that one word.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"Cersei is barely cold," Tyrion said quietly.

"I wouldn't say that, she was cold long before her heart stopped beating," Jaime snapped.

"You really think it's that easy? That you can forget her by marrying Jeyne?" he asked him.

"She torments me every day," Jaime hissed, "but does that mean I have to wallow in it?!"

"Why Jeyne?" Tyrion asked him.

"Why not Jeyne?!" he shot back furiously.

"Why Jeyne?" Tyrion repeated.

"Because she … she was there … she … even at the lowest she was there … always there, always just there being sweet and kind …" he tailed off.

"And nothing like Cersei," Tyrion finished sympathetically.

"No woman is like Cersei," Jaime snapped.

"And therein lies the problem," Tyrion sighed.

"No," Jaime said angrily, "therein lies the solution – I thought you would be happy for me brother! Pleased I have found someone at last!"

"I will be happy for you Jaime if you can swear to me that you love her," Tyrion said softly.

"Why else would I marry her?" he shot back.

"Because she's sweet and kind and good with the children and she needs you, she's vulnerable and meek and she needs you in a way Cersei never did," Tyrion listed.

"She is stronger than you understand," Jaime snarled.

"Believe me I know just how strong she is, most girls would have crumbled and fallen apart after what she had to endure at the Capitol … but that does not mean she is any less frightened," he said gently.

"She is not scared of me," Jaime snapped, "she knows her own mind and she wants to marry me as much as I want to marry her!"

"Peace brother," Tyrion raised his hands in surrender, "I am merely concerned for you … for both of you"

"You needn't be," he huffed, "this is what we both want … I … I do love her Tyrion … I just haven't found the words to tell her yet"

"Good," Tyrion nodded, "you know that is all I ever needed to hear."

* * *

**A/N: **Highs and lows in that chapter I think ... but YAY, Theon's back!

More in a week!

:)


	57. Moving On

**A/N: **Thanks for being patient guys, here's the new one. Hope you enjoy!

**YuunoMugen: **Sorry it made you cry but very pleased you liked it!

:)

* * *

**Moving On**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Theon stirred awake, feeling her warm flesh under his touch, breathing in the sweet scent of her as he lay there with his eyes still closed to the world. How many times had he woken like this? How many times had he woken with her in his arms only for his eyes to open seconds later and realise that she was not there at all? That she had been a dream, a perfect illusion that he deluded himself time and time again into believing was truly real. She felt real. She felt real under his touch right now as he kept his eyes fully closed, moving his lips to where he imagined her neck would be and placing kisses across it. As the tiny noise of pleasure hummed from her he dared to open his eyes a fraction, astounded when he saw her stirring awake in his arms. Had he really become that delusional that he was conjuring up her image now? In his mind he just couldn't decide whether she was truly there or not but he determined to make the most of her presence, of the way she felt so warm and perfect in his arms. He shifted her over then so she rolled onto her back, her eyes fluttering properly open and making his heart pound wildly in his chest as he gazed down into them, his body rolling between her legs. Gods she looked so real. She looked so damn real.

He bent to kiss her lips then, his tongue slipping into her mouth to taste that taste that had been denied to him for so long. She felt so fucking real, the taste of her, the feel of her and in the next moment his hands were desperately tugging up the silk of her nightdress. He needed to have her, he needed to join himself with her completely before she disappeared the way she always did. He needed to feel her, to really feel her and be as one with her before his eyes truly opened and he found himself cold and alone again. The hum of pleasure at the back of her throat felt so real as he continued to kiss her, his hands pushing her nightdress up and around her waist before desperately fumbling at his own laces. When he came free he pressed himself against her at once, feeling her warm and ready for him and ever so real as he slipped his way inside her. She gasped out against his lips then, a throb of pain mixing with the pleasure he brought her which told her it was probably too soon after Darion to be with him like this again. She couldn't bring herself to stop him though, her own body craving him as much as he seemed to be craving her as he thrust deeply into her at every rock of his hips, her own lifting to meet his pace as he pressed kisses all across her face before making his way towards her neck.

A flash of that man had her faltering then and she moved her hands to cup Theon's face, encouraging him away from her neck; "not there," she panted out, shaking her head, "please not there …" He nodded his own head in response, his breathing ragged against her lips as his eyes found hers and held them fast. This was better, gazing up at him like this, his eyes so familiar and warm. It was better like this, the memory of that man's weight against her melting away then as she held fast to her husband's eyes, her hands snaking up over his shoulders as they continued their motion. "Gods you feel real," he groaned out then; "you feel so real … tell me you're real …"

"I'm real," she gasped out, pulling his face even closer to her so she could pepper his cheeks, his lips, his forehead, his everywhere with kisses.

"Gods you are real … you're real," he responded breathlessly, fisting his hands in her hair.

Adele pulled his lips back to hers then and kissed him with everything she had as she felt the coils in her stomach ready to come undone. The last thing she needed was her father in the next room to hear them, nor to wake Darion for that matter. Theon's hands tightened ever further in her hair then and she knew that he could feel her release coming too, his lips pressing more insistently against hers and deepening their kiss. She moaned desperately into his mouth then as his next thrust finished her, his lips pulling away from hers in the next moment as he came to his own end, collapsing down against her shoulder and breathing hard. She let her hands wander gently up and down his back then as one of his began to stroke her hair lovingly. Her head turned to the side then so she could place a lingering kiss on his temple, his own head turning when she moved them away so he could press a kiss of his own to her shoulder.

"What happened to you out there Theon?" she asked him softly after a long moment of silence.

"Nothing," he said, rather too quickly for her liking and she swallowed hard, her hands stilling on his back.

"Don't lie to me," she whispered, "please …"

"My father imprisoned me that's all. He knew I wanted to come back to you so he locked me away. Asha got me out and that's the end of it," he said, his body stiffening.

"How were you injured?" she asked softly.

"An arrow hit me as I escaped," he told her honestly.

"You were discovered?" she sounded horrified and he closed his eyes; "Did Asha not come back with you after that?"

"She's dead," he said shortly after a long moment.

"Oh Theon …" she breathed, trying to find the right words.

"Please don't," he said, pressing another kiss to her shoulder; "just don't Adele …"

"Alright," she said softly, tightening her embrace.

"You didn't want me to kiss your neck," he stated after several minutes of silence; "why?"

"That man," she swallowed hard, "when he tried to … he … it reminded me of it for a second"

"You always loved it when I kissed your neck," he whispered, raising his head and looking into her eyes, his fingers coming to softly trace along her throat.

"And I will again," she promised him; "just not yet … I'm sorry Theon"

"It's me who should be sorry … after everything I've put you through," he said, shaking his head.

"You're home now, that's all I ever wanted," she told him; "we're together again and we're a family just like we always wanted"

"I love you so much Adele," he breathed, his eyes welling with tears.

"And I love you Theon," she smiled up at him, her hand stroking down his cheek; "I always will."

* * *

_The Wolfswood_

* * *

Victarion grew steadily angrier as he counted each man dismounting from the horses. Twenty-three. Twenty fucking three. Euron had sent well over two hundred and only twenty-three had returned. _Easy, _he had said, it would be _easy _to overrun Winterfell since most of their forces had been sent down to Moat Cailin to deal with the _threat. _Victarion knew damn well that the men left down there would have fled to wait offshore just as Euron had commanded them to when they saw wolf banners approaching. What Victarion couldn't get his head around was why. What the hell was his brother playing at? Whatever it was it was dangerous and he did not like it one bit. Twenty-three men had returned and almost half of them looked as though they would not survive much longer and all the while Euron sat by his fire with his whore in his lap with a grin on his face. Victarion had had just about enough of it, it was high time his cursed brother told him the truth about everything.

"I want a word," he snarled, marching right up to him.

"You can have two brother," Euron chuckled, slapping his whore's bottom as she giggled at his words.

"Now," Victarion said, his voice dangerously low.

"Amuse yourself a minute," Euron said, shoving Helena away from him.

"I'll not be far," she pouted at him before sauntering away, swinging her hips seductively.

"Saucy wench," Euron growled, his eyes following her.

"Fuck your whore," Victarion snapped.

"Oh, I intend to," Euron smirked and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

"What the fuck are you playing at?! Take Winterfell easy you said, no need for all of us you said, what the fuck is going on?! I want to know and I want to know now!" he demanded.

"We were never going to take Winterfell brother," Euron shook his head.

"Then why the fuck would you send over two hundred of our men to die you mad cunt?!" Victarion raged at him.

"Because now they think they've won. They think we played our move, tried to take Winterfell and failed. They will assume we are retreating back to the sea to lick our wounds. They will assume we are no longer a threat which will make it all the more satisfying when we rise up again and take over the true jewel of the mainland," Euron grinned.

"What are you talking about?" Victarion asked.

"All them southern Lords are off playing war and leaving their castles rather empty do you not think?" he raised his brows.

"What ridiculous plot is this now?" Victarion asked him exasperatedly.

"Not everything can be paid with iron brother, if we want our independence we'll need gold," Euron told him, his uncovered eye boring into his.

"You're not serious," he shook his head, staring at him incredulously.

"And why not?" Euron asked, outstretching his arms.

"Casterly Rock?" Victarion shook his head again.

"Casterly Rock," Euron confirmed, standing up and smirking again, "Helena!" he called out, "Get yourself back here!"

"Euron …" he began.

"That's the plan brother, we leave this stricken waste tomorrow, it is time we Greyjoy's discovered new riches," Euron said, grabbing Helena's arm and pulling her against him.

"This isn't what Balon wanted …" Victarion said, shaking his head.

"Balon is finished," Euron said, meeting his eyes again, "you and I both know that brother …"

Victarion could find no more words in his mind then, he could only stare and shake his head at Euron as he backed Helena up against a tree. He turned away then as her legs came up around his waist, turning and walking through the woods until he could no longer hear her loud moans of pleasure. Walking and walking and trying to get his head around what Euron was planning. It was madness. Madness. And like it or not he was right in the middle of it all.

* * *

_Maidenpool_

* * *

Everything was being packed up around him and loaded onto carts and horses, men shouting orders to one another as the army prepared to depart but Ned felt as though his own world had come to a standstill as he read through the letter one more time. Surely he was reading it wrong. Surely. How could Winterfell have come under such an attack? How could the walls have been breached? The only comfort he had was that the letter had been written in Catelyn's hand and that he had assurances that his children were safe. That Dany was safe. He bit his lip, wondering if he should tell Robb everything or leave out the part about Dany's injuries. They were minor and they would heal. Was there really any point in sending his son half mad? Could he look him in the eye and lie to him though? He sighed then, no he couldn't. He would have to tell him as gently as he could. Gods what a mess. His hand came to run through his hair then as he reached the bottom again and he took a deep breath. They had suffered losses. There would be men here who had lost family, whose wives or daughters had been attacked. A list had been enclosed by one of the squires of all those who had been lost and it would be Ned's duty to read that out to the Northmen. That was a task he was not looking forward to. He closed his eyes then and said a prayer for Loral, trying his best not to think of Jory and how his friend would be coping, or likely not coping.

"Father?" Damn it all he had hoped for a moment to compose himself before Robb came upon him.

"From Winterfell," he said heavily, turning to face his son.

"What's happened?" Robb whispered and Ned could see the fear etched onto his young face.

"The family are fine," he told him at once but Robb's frown only deepened.

"What's happened?" Robb repeated.

"The Ironborn attacked; the men rode out to Moat Cailin and when they were gone Winterfell was set upon … likely it was a ruse," Ned said.

"What?!" Robb practically exploded.

"I knew Balon wouldn't stand for Theon's escape but I never thought he'd go this far …" Ned seethed, shaking his head.

"Was anyone hurt?!" Robb demanded then.

"Some were killed," Ned nodded, "women have been attacked … Loral is, she's dead Robb," he told him heavily.

"Oh Gods Dany," he whispered then, shaking his head; "she wasn't hurt was she?"

"She …" Ned started, "a few bruises is all"

"Bruises?" Robb repeated, his face like thunder.

"The Maester tended to her she is fine," Ned soothed, "she wasn't harmed Robb"

"They dare touch her!" he raged, "They dare!"

"Calm down Robb please," Ned grabbed his shoulders, feeling his body shaking under his touch.

"They could have killed her," he was whispering furiously, "they could have killed her and the baby … oh Gods … Gods …"

"Baby?" Ned repeated in a slightly dazed manner.

"She's pregnant father," Robb said, meeting his eyes, "what if she loses the child?"

"Robb, how many times …" he began.

"She has been hurt," Robb said, his voice shaking and his eyes shining, "she's been hurt and she's lost Loral and I … I'm not there … I should be there …"

"Come here, come now … come here," Ned soothed him, pulling him into his arms as he broke down completely; "come now it's alright … it's alright …"

* * *

Aegon read over the two lines of writing again and again, scratching at his head for a moment in thought. How could writing a letter be this difficult? He snorted then. Of course it was difficult. He was trying to write a letter to his betrothed in which he would tell her that his sometime lover was with him at camp with his bastard child in her belly. He had to try and tell her that whilst simultaneously reassuring her that he would be faithful to her. Gods damn it all. How was he supposed to write something like that without arousing her suspicions? If he said too much about Val then no doubt she would think he had a guilty conscience. If he didn't say anything about Val and she heard it from someone else then likely she would assume he had something to hide; that he was bedding her again. Damn it. They weren't even wed yet and everything was already such a complicated mess. He let out a long sigh then, turning his head when he heard Oberyn hailing him. Perhaps his uncle could help him make sense of it, or at least distract him for a time.

"Uncle," he greeted when he got close enough to him.

"News from Winterfell Aegon," Oberyn said and he could tell by the serious tone in his voice that something had happened. His uncle was rarely serious.

"What?" he asked, rising to his feet.

"The Ironborn attacked, they were beaten back but there have been losses," Oberyn told him.

"Who?" Aegon asked, his throat so dry he could barely breathe, let alone speak as he thought of Dany. Of Sansa. The Stark family and all those other innocents.

"Guards mainly, some townsfolk," he replied.

"Gods," Aegon muttered.

"Lord Stark is reading a list of the dead to the Northmen, his son is rather … agitated," Oberyn said.

"Right," Aegon nodded, his mind racing as he tried to think of the best thing to do, "right … best I head back to them and try and help."

Oberyn merely nodded then and the two men fell into step as they moved back towards the heart of camp. Around them the men who were not Northmen were packing up the tents and stamping out campfires, their faces looked rather grim and Aegon made sure to make eye contact with them, nodding to one or two who kept it in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. It was selfish to think it what with the news that had come but the last thing they needed was for morale to suffer amongst the men. He knew damn well that the North would be desperate to go back and crush the Ironborn but that was not the task in hand, their objective was the Capitol and they were so close now it was almost terrifying. So much could go wrong. What if the fleet from Dorne were not moored up at Duskendale as they should be? If they weren't there then they would have to wait again in yet another camp and Aegon was sick of waiting. He wanted it done.

Lord Stark appeared to be finishing up with his address to the northern armies then and Aegon waited patiently for him to step down from the cart that he had been stood on top of to better let his voice carry. The Northmen were dispersing then, going back to their own corners of camp to pack things away. They all looked grave but it was easy to pick out those who had lost someone, they seemed few and far between thankfully but this should never have happened. How had this happened?

"Lord Stark!" Aegon beckoned him over, Robb and Jon following on behind him both looking rather troubled as they approached.

"Your Grace," Lord Stark returned wearily when they reached him.

"How bad was it? Really." Aegon asked.

"Just over a hundred dead, mostly guards and men, more women than I care to think about violated in their own home," he was shaking his head and Aegon felt sick, his fists clenching at his sides as he thought about his mother despite himself.

"Calm," Oberyn said quietly, placing his hand on his shoulder and squeezing hard.

"I'm sorry your Grace," Lord Stark said then, also noticing Aegon's reaction.

"I asked," Aegon said, shaking his head, "it is the reality of war unfortunately … but I will not tolerate it within my own armies"

"Of course not," Oberyn said.

"Winterfell was never supposed to be a target for war," Robb snarled then.

"It's not his fault Robb," Jon said soothingly and Robb scowled.

"My war deprived Winterfell of its usual resistance," Aegon said, "if any one of us had suspected the Ironborn would attempt something like this then I would have left more behind"

"A bit late for that now," Robb said bitterly.

"Robb," Lord Stark cautioned him, sending him a sharp look.

"He's right, it's too late," Aegon said, "but I will not allow it to happen again – I'm sending you and your garrison back Robb"

"What?" Robb asked, blinking almost stupidly at him.

"From what I know the Ironborn do not give up easily. If this was just to test Winterfell's defences then they know they can breech the walls. There is little point in me fighting for the iron throne when the largest of the seven kingdoms could be crumbling away," he said.

"You're sending me?" Robb looked at him almost incredulous.

"Do you not want to go home?" Aegon chuckled, "Take your men and take those others who are grieving."

"Your Grace that is most generous," Lord Stark said then.

"Not exactly," Aegon smiled wryly, "I need to keep the kingdom's strong, especially those who are on my side … and I don't want morale in the main army to suffer"

"Thank you," Robb said then, meeting his eyes.

"If they come back send them to the seven hells," Aegon replied, "and when all of this is done with I intend to have Balon Greyjoy punished for his treason, it's about time the Iron Islands truly bent the knee and learned where their loyalties should lie."

* * *

Jon retreated back to his tent as the carts and wagons were loaded up. Robb had already taken his men and set out for the North at once and Jon had been aching to go with him. Instead he would have to make do with writing her a letter. When he had heard the news about the attack he had felt sick to his stomach, his heart seemingly ceasing to beat in his chest as he somehow managed to form words, to ask Lord Stark if Margaery and her son were alright. On hearing they had not been touched he had wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, his heart began beating again and the tension in his stomach had eased somewhat. It was then he knew he loved her. Truly loved her, and that little boy. Now he knew he had to tell her lest anything happened to him in the final push for the Capitol. He wrote his usual pleasantries to her, adding in his relief that she and Steffon were unharmed. When he came to the end he took a deep breath and instead of writing _yours, Jon_ as he usually did he wrote, _I love you, Jon. _He swallowed hard when he took them in on the parchment like that. Part of him wanted to rip it up and rewrite the letter with the usual parting words but he forced himself to fold it up tightly before reaching for the sealing wax.

"Jon?" Lord Stark's questioning tone came from just beyond the canvas.

"Come in," he said, as he stamped the seal into the wax.

"Everything alright?" Lord Stark asked as he entered the tent, a slight frown on his face.

"Fine," Jon answered, tapping the letter almost absently.

"I thought it strange you weren't with the men," he said, eyeing the letter almost suspiciously.

"I needed a moment," Jon said by way of explanation.

"Can I ask who she is?" he asked quietly then and Jon smiled slightly before turning to face him.

"Margaery," Jon said.

"Tyrell?" Lord Stark raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You think she's too good for me," Jon said at once, averting his eyes.

"No!" he protested, "No not at all … just surprised is all"

"I love her," Jon said then and he smiled faintly.

"That's why you took the name Aegon was offering," he nodded in understanding.

"Aye," Jon said, meeting his eyes again that were so much like his. It still didn't feel right that he wasn't his father and it didn't feel right to refer to him as Lord Stark constantly but he just couldn't make his mouth form the word _uncle_.

"Will you be going to Storm's End then?" Lord Stark asked.

"If she'll have me," Jon tried to joke but it still felt like a very real possibility to him that she could still refuse him. Especially if she were reunited with her family, they would want better for her than him he just knew it. Prince or not he had still been a bastard for almost all his life.

"You are a good man," Lord Stark told him then, holding his eyes fast, "any woman would be lucky to have you as their husband Jon, I truly mean that"

"Thank you," Jon said, swallowing hard.

"I was proud to call you my son all these years," he said quietly then, "and I am proud now to be your uncle … if you will have me as such"

"Of course," Jon said, the only words he could muster as he stepped forward into his embrace, feeling his hands clench tightly around the back of his doublet as they gripped one another for a long moment.

"Thank you," Lord Stark murmured then before stepping away, "now … we best get on, Aegon wants to get moving before midday."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you guys enjoyed - more soon!

:)


	58. One More Night

**A/N: **As you may be able to tell from the title, this is the last chapter before Aegon goes for the Capitol.

Just want to say a big thank you - over 500 followers - crazy times, thank you to every single one of you!

Hope you enjoy this chapter guys!

:)

* * *

**One More Night**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Can I help?" Gendry asked tentatively as Serra scrubbed furiously at the pot.

"I'm fine," she said irritably and Jory sighed heavily.

"Serra, please let me help," Gendry said gently, his hand moving to still her wrist.

"I'm not helpless Gendry!" she burst out furiously, tugging away from his grip before throwing the cloth in her hand down and marching out into the hallway. Her footsteps pounded up the stairs then and in the next moment the two men heard the sound of a slamming door, the sound made them both wince as they moved their eyes from the ceiling to one another's.

"She's finding it hard," Jory said, and Gendry saw the pain flash across his own features.

"I know that … I just want to help," he sighed in frustration.

"It's understandable that she's missing her mother at this time, and her condition certainly won't be helping matters," Jory said.

"What do you mean?" Gendry asked with a frown.

"Loral was the same, I used to fear for my life when she was in the early stages, she threw that pot at me once … when she was having Joren I think … that's why there's a dent in the side," he smiled slightly wistfully but Gendry's forehead only creased even more.

"What do you mean?" he repeated.

"Well Serra, she … oh," realisation dawned on Jory's face, "I could be wrong," he backtracked, "likely I am mistaken …"

"You think she's pregnant?" Gendry said with a slightly dazed look on his face.

"I don't know Gendry … ignore me," Jory advised him.

"I need to speak to her," he said, making to head out to the hallway but Jory grabbed his wrist.

"Let me," Jory implored him, "please … let me speak to her first"

Gendry looked at him intently for a long moment before he nodded his head and Jory let go of his wrist before standing up and making his own way out into the hallway. His eyes lingered for a moment on the spot at the bottom of the stairs but he moved them away, taking a deep breath and trying to still the shake in his hands as he slowly climbed them. When he reached her door he knocked softly before letting himself in when she made no reply. She was sat on the bed with a pillow clutched to her chest and her knees drawn up around her and Jory's heart broke as he saw the tears slowly trickling down her cheeks.

"She wouldn't want you to be like this," he said softly, coming to sit down at her side.

"I miss her," she whispered.

"I know," he said, the pain evident in those two words, "we all do"

"I don't know what to do without her," she confessed.

"Especially now," he guessed and she looked to him, his eyes flickering down to her stomach.

"Yes," she nodded, bringing her hand up to wipe her tears away.

"You haven't told Gendry," he said, a statement not a question and she shook her head.

"I don't know how to be a mother," she told him then, choking slightly on a sob.

"Yes you do," he smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder, "you learned from the best"

"I'm scared," she whispered and he shifted himself to he could pull her into an embrace.

"You have me, and you have Gendry and Joren and Dany and Adele," he told her, "I know none of us can ever be what your mother was to you but we love you, and we will be anything you need us to be I promise you that"

"I should tell Gendry," she said rather thickly then as she clung to him.

"You should," he agreed, "although I think I may have inadvertently done that already"

"Was he angry?" she asked, pulling back slightly from him, her eyes wide.

"Of course I'm not angry," Gendry's voice came from the door then and Jory moved away and up from the bed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she whispered, her eyes fixed on her husband.

"It doesn't matter," Gendry crossed to her at once and gathered her into his arms.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said then, "I didn't mean it"

"I know," he said, "it's alright I promise you … I love you"

"I love you too," she replied and Jory smiled, a bittersweet feeling in his chest as he moved his eyes away from them and quietly left them alone, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Dany turned to the side and placed her hand to her ribs as she scrutinized her bare body in the long mirror. The bruises were almost all faded now and they were no longer tender to touch. Thankfully none of them had been broken so she had not been confined to bed for the Gods knew how long. She moved her hands to cradle her stomach then which seemed to have put on a spurt of growth over the last week. The baby moved more often now, the tiny fluttering's having progressed into real jabs and kicks. Proper motions. Maester Luwin listened to the heart every week and told her everything was progressing as it should and that she had a strong little one inside her. Dany didn't doubt it, especially after what had happened with the Ironborn. She shuddered slightly then and snatched her shift from the back of the chair, pulling it up and over her head. It didn't bear thinking about what would have happened to her and her baby had Viserion not come to the rescue. Those who had been wary and even frightened of her dragon before held no fear anymore. They all seemed happy to wonder at him as he flew in large circles in the skies above Winterfell or perched high up on one of the towers, his beady eyes scanning the area. She smiled slightly then, a knock at the door pulling her from her thoughts as she hurriedly reached for her dress.

"Just a moment!" she called, wrapping it around her quickly and tying the lacings tightly, "Come in!"

"Are you alright?" Lady Stark asked her as she entered.

"Fine," Dany smiled, "you caught me just as I was getting dressed"

"I know it's early, but I didn't think you'd mind once I told you the news," she smiled.

"What news?" Dany asked, her mind racing with thoughts of Robb and the final push towards the Capitol.

"Aegon has sent Robb north with his garrison to make sure Winterfell is better fortified," Lady Stark told her with a huge smile on her face.

"He's coming home?" Dany blinked stupidly at her good-mother.

"Yes, he's coming home!" she sounded delighted and Dany couldn't help but laugh her own relief.

"Oh Gods," Dany breathed, "Gods, he's coming home."

* * *

_Rosby_

* * *

They were camped south of the town and out of sight of Rosby, one more night of rest before they marched on the Capitol. It was an hour from here at the most, the vast expanse of it could just about be made out in the fading sun. They would attack just before dawn, Loras Tyrell had promised the keys to the Iron Gate. In return Aegon had promised a pardon for him and his brother, for his father he made no such promise. He would have to consider that when this was all over and done with. They would overrun the city. He would be King by midday. Simple. He smiled wryly to himself at that, nothing had been simple so far, why should this be any different?

"Can I talk to you?" Val's voice roused his attention.

"Of course you can," he said.

"I didn't know if you would want to be disturbed given what you are to do tomorrow," she said.

"I told you if you needed anything you were to come to me," he said in response.

"That man, Littlefinger, what are you going to do with him?" she asked and he frowned at her.

"What do you know of Littlefinger?" he asked her.

"I know that girl Jeyne shakes whenever she sees him, I know that Lord Stark looks at him as though he would tear him apart given the chance, the Kingslayer too," she said.

"He doesn't like that name," Aegon told her.

"Never mind that," she snapped, "what will you do with him?"

"There is not much I can do, he never touched Jeyne personally and none of us can prove that he was in any way involved in her mistreatment," he said.

"You call being repeatedly raped mistreatment?" she asked him incredulously.

"Have you forgotten what happened to my mother?!" it was his turn to snap now and she flinched.

"No," she averted her eyes, "I'm sorry … I shouldn't have said that"

"Believe me, if I could I would end Baelish, but I can't … not yet," he told her.

"Not yet … what does that mean?" she asked.

"It means, we may not have the evidence but someone at the Capitol no doubt will," he replied.

"You should geld him first," she told him then, "I could do it for you if you like"

"Thank you for your offer of service," he smiled at her, "but I don't want you gelding anyone in your condition"

"Just because I'm pregnant it doesn't mean I'm helpless," she said indignantly.

"I know that," he said, his eyes lingering on her stomach.

"Would you like to feel it?" she asked, "It moves so strongly now I think you could …"

"Yes," he nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as he inched forwards and placed his hand lightly on the swell of her stomach.

"There it goes now," she said, a smile gracing both of their lips.

"I felt it," he said wonderingly.

"You'll be careful tomorrow won't you," she said fearfully then and he looked up to meet her eyes.

"I will," he promised.

"I'll leave you to rest," she said, though she made no move to leave.

"Would you stay a while?" he asked.

"You know what happens when I stay a while," she said, "and I won't be the cause of you breaking another promise to the Stark gi- to Sansa"

"I have one more night before everything changes," he said, meeting her eyes, "I just want to be near you, to feel our baby moving inside you … is that so bad?"

"No," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"Please stay," he whispered back.

"I'll stay," she nodded, blinking furiously.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne was sleeping when Stannis finally entered her chamber after another long meeting with his council. Aegon was close now, too close and they had only walls and the men Stannis had garrisoned in the city to defend themselves from him. It was hopeless. Stannis knew it. The council knew it but still they debated and planned for hours at a time on how best to work it defensively. Holding out for a siege seemed to be the only option, raining down arrows from the ramparts to try and pick off his vast numbers. Erinne's father hadn't answered his call for arms. He remained at Stonehelm despite the fact that his own daughter was Queen. He had abandoned her to whatever fate awaited her and Stannis shuddered as he watched her sleeping, his mind drifting to the fate of Elia Martell. Aegon's mother. Would he think it a fitting act of revenge to inflict the same end on Erinne? He swallowed hard then and prayed to any God that might be listening that it wouldn't end that way for her. That it wouldn't end at all for her. He had yet to tell her that her father wasn't coming but she would know soon enough as Aegon's armies would soon be at the walls.

Stannis looked away from his sleeping wife then and loosened his doublet, shrugging out of it before he sat on his side of the bed and bent to unlace his boots. He heard her stirring behind him then and hoped that she wouldn't wake up, he wasn't sure if he could remain strong and unaffected if she fixed her eyes on him. He wasn't sure whether he could keep up the pretence that everything would be alright. Erinne wasn't stupid and he knew he needed to tell her the truth, he needed to warn her. To make sure that when the end came for him it did not come for his wife and daughter. "Gods what time is it?" she mumbled then, "Have you only just come?"

"Yes," he answered her, feeling her shift on the bed again, her hands coming to his shoulders in the next moment.

"We're going to lose this aren't we?" she whispered then and he slowly nodded his head.

"He'll be here by morning," he said.

"What will you do?" she asked.

"What can I do? I will fight, my men will fight and we will lose," he replied.

"My father?" she asked hopefully and he shook his head to which she sighed heavily; "Can't you bend the knee?"

"After all I've done, you think it would be that simple?" he asked.

"I don't know … but at least you would have a chance at life then," she stressed.

"A life in black and cold," he said.

"But a life nonetheless," she said, squeezing his shoulders and he moved himself then so he could turn and face her, his eyes meeting hers.

"A life without you," he said quietly, "a life without Shireen … I don't want that Erinne."

She looked at him almost strangely then before she inched forwards a little on the bed. Her hand came almost tentatively towards him before she cupped it around his cheek, encouraging him towards her after a moment of just resting it there. He shifted himself further onto the bed then and she wrapped her other hand around his bicep as she lay herself back down, encouraging him on top of her. His heart was racing as he came to nestle between her legs, his eyes seeking out hers again. "We don't have to do this," he told her and she met his eyes for the longest moment before her hand came up to stroke down his cheek again. "You've been a different man these past months," she whispered; "especially after I lost the baby … I don't know if I would have managed without you. _If_ I'm to lose you," she seemed to swallow hard after she said those words, "then I want this memory."

He had no words of reply, he could only slowly lean into her, hesitating slightly before he pressed his lips to hers. Their kisses had always been chaste, even when he had been trying harder for her he had never brought any passion into their relationship. He told himself that he didn't need to, that she was already with child so there was no need. He had always desired her, even when he was that cold, stone man he had always wanted her but he was no fool. A young, beautiful creature like Erinne would never have truly desired him. That made it easier not to bed her once she was pregnant, knowing that she would likely prefer it if he didn't. Now _she_ had instigated it and it felt all different and new and so he encouraged her to part her lips so he could deepen their kiss. It was all so slow the way their lips moved together, the way he let his hand slowly stroke up and down her silk covered hip and the way her hand slid from his cheek to entwine in the hair at the back of his neck. He had to pull away after another long moment, his breathing rather more laboured than before as he looked down on her, her chest rising and falling more quickly.

Tentatively he let the hand on her hip move so it could slowly begin to gather up the silk of her nightdress, his eyes finding hers as he did so. She made no move to stop him, holding his gaze as his hand brushed her bare thigh, his other going to her other hip so he could push her nightdress up around her waist. Her own hands came to the laces of his shirt then, loosening them before tugging it free of his breeches and pulling it over his head. She let her hands wander down his bare chest then and he exhaled deeply under her touch, his want for her piqued now as her fingers came to unthread the laces of his breeches. He pressed his body closer to her when she freed his length and her legs came up to wrap around his waist. He was up against her warmth now, almost surprised to feel her own desire for him as he met her eyes again, silently asking her permission. As though she understood him she squeezed her thighs lightly around him and he shifted himself so he could enter her. He began rocking slowly into her then and she raised her own hips to meet his on every thrust, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as one of his slid up and down her thigh.

When her breaths came as gasps and the odd murmur of pleasure left her lips he couldn't help but feel immensely satisfied as he continued his slow pace. His own breathing was coming sharply as he felt himself coming towards his height. He was almost ashamed of conjuring up a memory of his brother then, remembering Robert talking about satisfying a woman. He had to remember it though because he wanted to satisfy his wife. He wanted Erinne to have her memory and he wanted it to be perfect. His hand slipped from her thigh then, seeking its way between their bodies that were still moving in perfect harmony. When he let his thumb seek out that little bud Erinne almost whimpered beneath him and he was instantly sure that he had done it wrong. Her back arched up into him then and he felt relief, putting a little more pressure on her and rubbing his thumb up and down against her. Her breaths were sharp, almost agonised cries now but he knew it was pleasure she was feeling as her nails pinched into his shoulders, her hips still rocking up to meet his as he felt her warmth clenching in even more tightly around him. Her body went limp beneath him in the next moment, her mouth gasping for air as he let out a stifled groan in the next second, finishing inside her.

Instead of moving away like he usually would he allowed her to pull him down against her, his head coming to rest in the crook of her neck as she held him close, her hand stroking repeatedly through his hair. The repetitive action of it soothed him almost to the point that he forgot about the hell that would soon be marching this way. He almost forgot that this time tomorrow he would likely be dead. When she pressed the kiss to his temple and whispered "thank you" against his skin he almost forgot that the Gods were just waiting to send him to the depths of the seven hells where he would be constantly tormented over what he had done to Renly. He closed his eyes then and willed all the bad things away for tonight. Just one night. One more night. He would spend it entwined completely with his sweet wife and he would not wish to be anywhere else.

* * *

The bells woke them, Stannis jerking awake just as she did, his head snapping up from the crook of her neck to meet her eyes which she knew were wide with fear. She saw it in his own eyes as well and it terrified her to the very core of her being. He shifted up then, finally pulling out of her, the absence of him there suddenly making her feel rather hollow. She didn't know what had made her reach out to him in the night, made her ask him to be with her again but she could not regret it. Stannis was hurriedly pulling on his clothes then, jamming his feet into his boots and hurriedly lacing them up. Erinne sat herself up in the bed and looked towards the gap in the drapes. It was still dark but she imagined that dawn was fast approaching. Her stomach stabbed with fear then and she swallowed hard before turning to face her husband, seeing him already staring intently at her.

"I have to go," he said.

"I know," she whispered.

"I'm the King," he said by way of explanation and she smiled sadly at him.

"I know," she repeated.

"You should take moon tea," he told her then.

"Stannis …" she started but he shook his head, taking a few steps closer towards her.

"Bend the knee when he comes," he implored her, "beg forgiveness, do whatever you must … say I was cruel, say that I forced you …"

"I'll never say that," she said, shaking her head, moving up onto her knees and reaching out to him.

"I want to know you'll live Erinne," he said, pulling her against his chest, "please … promise me, I need to know I did something right"

"I'll bend the knee if I must," she promised, "but I won't lie"

"Very well," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Shireen?" she asked then, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes.

"I want you to listen to me," he said seriously and she nodded; "I want you to get dressed, keep the hood of your cloak up at all times and go to her. Likely she is already awake, keep her calm and keep her as hidden as you can. I want you both to go to the Sept and seek sanctuary. I will not have them brutalize you nor harm you, will you promise me Erinne? Promise me you'll go to the Sept."

"I promise," she said, meeting his eyes.

"Come out for no one but Aegon," he continued, "don't leave the safety of the Sept until he promises you before witnesses and the High Septon that your lives will be spared, do you understand?"

"I understand," she whispered, nodding furiously.

He cupped her cheeks then, staring into her eyes for a long moment before he grabbed her to him and kissed her so forcefully that she could barely breathe. When he pulled away he let go of her and stepped back, his eyes still on her as she forced herself to keep composed. She had to keep composed for Shireen, she had to do what Stannis had asked of her and go to the Sept. "Remember the tea Erinne," he said then, his eyes boring into hers and she nodded slowly. He looked satisfied then, making his way towards the door. Erinne watched as he wrenched it open, wanting to say a thousand things for him but at the same time wanted to say nothing at all. He paused in the doorway then, his back still to her and she watched in anticipation, wondering if he would turn back and say something else. He didn't turn back but he did speak, he spoke words that she imagined would haunt her for the rest of her life; "Thank you for making me a better man Erinne."

* * *

**A/N: **In case anyone is too worried, Erinne is not in love with Stannis. She cares about him but guilt was driving her more than anything.

Anyway, more soon!

:)


	59. To The Death

**A/N: **Chapter up earlier than expected thanks to the fact I will have no internet from tomorrow until Wednesday. I thought it would be rather cruel to leave you guys hanging on until then! Anyhoo, hope you enjoy the chapter, thanks as always for reading.

:)

* * *

**To the Death**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

It had been simple so far, just like his council had kept promising him. Loras Tyrell had the Iron Gate raised and before any of the guards atop the walls could move to react over a thousand of his men had poured through. A group of them got into the gatehouse and jammed the mechanism that would have allowed the City Watch to close it again. Aegon went through with Jon at his side, both of them sharing a look before their eyes roamed around, looking for any point of attack. They were still under threat from the Tyrell's despite Loras' assistance. He had sent word promising to go at once to his father and have him order the men back but no one seemed sure how long that would take. Aegon had been more intent for him to go straight back to the queen he guarded and make sure that she and Stannis' daughter were both secured. He had no desire to harm either of them but he needed them in his custody to make sure there could be no threat of any counter attack.

They had made their way easily through Flea Bottom, the smallfolk scattered in their wake, front doors slamming and even boards been slammed up against the windows. One or two drunks heckled them and were roughly shoved aside if they caused a nuisance but no blood was spilled. They passed by a brothel then and a few whores leant out of the upper storey windows, pulling down their bodices and doing their utmost to distract the men. "Let's secure the city first shall we?!" Aegon said sharply as a couple of men in front of him slowed their pace and looked as though they were seriously considering the offers. Soon their voices faded into the distance and all that could be heard was the toll of the bells and the marching of thousands of boots on the stone streets. Aegon imagined that what forces Stannis did have would all be gathering for one last stand. What he didn't know was where. He knew from maps and the advice of those who had knowledge of the city, that there was a square halfway down this road. From there other roads branched off, one of which led straight up to the Red Keep. He swallowed hard and tried not to think of how he would feel walking into that place, making it his home after what had happened there. Already he had decided that he would ask Sansa to see to it that every inch of it was redecorated, whatever the cost. He would pay anything.

The clashing of swords met his ears then and he gripped his sword more tightly in his hand as Ghost tore at once from Jon's side and rounded the corner. Jon picked up his pace then as the snarls and snaps of his wolf met their ears. Aegon followed after him, feeling his guard right behind him as he moved, at once engaging himself with a Gold Cloak as soon as he entered the square. As he clashed swords with him he let his eyes dance around, seeking out the road he needed. He wrong footed his opponent then and sliced right into his side, cutting through his armour and into the spot just below his ribs. The dying man screamed in agony, falling into Aegon and knocking him slightly off balance as he wrenched his sword free to allow him to collapse to the ground. Aegon stumbled just long enough for another man to come for him, raising his sword just in time to parry his blow. The force knocked him on his back though and for a second he thought he was dead.

White fur barrelled through the air then, snarls mixing with the screams of the man who had been so close to killing him and the sickening sound of flesh being torn before the man fell silent. Aegon stared at Ghost then, his muzzle coated in blood. "Thank you," he said, not feeling at all stupid for talking to a wolf as he got up to his feet. The wolf merely blinked at him for a moment before he turned tail and bounded off into the confrontation again. There didn't seem to be many Gold Cloaks left now and Aegon imagined that this would just be a warm up fight. The bulk of the opposition were still missing and he wondered vaguely whether the ships would have made it round to the River Gate yet. He knew that Stannis had a fleet, but he knew that it was not as vast as it once had been. They had lost some to the Lannister fleet when he had taken over the Capitol and everyone seemed certain that he would not have had the time to replace them yet. With the various ships they had picked up from here there and everywhere added to the Dornish fleet, they would likely be more than a match for whatever Stannis had left.

Jon was walking towards him then, breathing rather heavily with his blood coated sword swinging in his hand and Ghost trailing along in his wake. "Ready to go on?" Jon asked him and Aegon swallowed hard. Each garrison had orders to go down a separate road as Aegon wanted the city flooded with men who were loyal to him. Three of them though would take the road up to the Red Keep and they were all trickling into the square now, just waiting for him to give the order. This was it, one more fight and he would enter that throne room. He would be King. He met his brother's eyes then and thought of all that he had gained already from sailing across to Westeros. This was the final thing. The final step. "Ready," he said, nodding his head; "move up! Up to the keep, move!"

* * *

Stannis wondered if Aegon had reached the keep yet as he sent another man tumbling to his death. He wondered if he was still King or if the Targaryen was sat on the throne as he fought atop the ramparts, desperate not to die a craven hiding behind his walls. Gods he hoped that Erinne and Shireen had made it to the Sept alright, it was a long journey but so long as she had stuck to the backstreets then he was hopeful they would have made it. Erinne was a clever woman, he had to believe that she had got herself and his daughter to safety. He could die in relative peace that way. He could see down onto the vast street that led up to the keep then and he could see thousands making their way up it. That was Aegon, he would stake his life on it. So he was still King, for now at least. The Tyrell's had turned their back on him as well, there was no sign of the promised men outside the keep. There was no one there, no one to stop the lost Targaryen walking right inside and taking the throne. It would be laughably easy for him. All Stannis had left now were a few hundred loyal men and what was left of his fleet.

They had come under attack as well, from his vantage point he could also see down to the River Gate and he knew it would only be a matter of time before more forces loyal to Aegon would be flooding through there as well. Had he really been foolish enough to think that he stood a chance? Against Aegon. Gods. Even what was left of the Lannister's had joined him, and the Vale who he had been certain would stay out of it. Baelish had come back to haunt him but he could not regret banishing him. What choice had he had after the vulgar things he had said about Erinne? The pounding of more heavy footsteps was coming towards him then and he turned to see Ned Stark and dozens of Northmen coming for him. He smiled slightly wryly then, how apt that this is who should end him. It was his biggest mistake, in hindsight, to imprison Stark. Had he ignored Melisandre and taken the offer of support then he was almost certain he would have joined Renly to his cause as well. Gods he was a fool. It was too late now though, he had made his decision and now he would face the consequences. More footsteps came behind him then and he knew he was trapped. It was just him, him alone between nearly a hundred Northmen he would guess.

"So here it is," he said, looking towards Ned, "whoever thought it would be you …"

"Come quietly, bend the knee," Ned said, his eyes lingering on the sword Stannis was still turning over and over in his hand.

"You know me better than that Stark," he smiled wryly.

"What is the point?" Ned asked him incredulously.

"I won't kneel!" Stannis snapped, "I will not kneel and accept the black, my name forever listed alongside rapists and murderers and those too craven to face justice! As of this moment I am still the King … and I will not yield!"

"You're a fool," Ned said, shaking his head.

"I am," Stannis agreed, almost laughing, "here you stand … my biggest mistake. I should never have shut you away, the man with the most honour I have ever met"

"But you did," Ned said.

"I did," he smiled slightly, "and my loss is his gain …"

"He's a reasonable man, merciful … Gods Stannis if he can pardon Jaime Lannister he can pardon you!" Ned implored him.

"And I would go free would I? Free to leave here and live out my days with my wife and daughter?" he really did laugh this time.

"Where are they?" Ned asked him.

"Safe," he said, "at least I hope to the Gods they are," he continued, his eyes flickering towards the Sept of Baelor that rose up in the distance.

"Yield Stannis," Ned urged him.

"No," he said softly, shaking his head.

He turned suddenly then, lifting his sword up and slicing it down against one of the men behind him. His scream told Stannis he had made contact and he raised his sword to clash against someone else then as Ned repeatedly bellowed at him to yield and at his men to restrain him. Stannis refused to be restrained. He did not want to be put in chains and forced to kneel before a mere boy. He wanted to die fighting for something he believed in. He wanted to die with Erinne's name on his lips and her image behind his eyes. They would write songs about that. He wondered if she would like that, if they would bring her comfort and make her smile. He wondered how long she would mourn him, if she would shroud herself in black. He wondered if she would remarry and bear another man's child. As much as it hurt he hoped she would, there was so much goodness in her, goodness that she would pour into her children. Into nurturing them and guiding them. For a mad moment he imagined her not taking the moon tea and he wondered if he could possibly have left her with child. He wondered all that and more as the blows rained down on him. He thought of his daughter and the fact that he was leaving her an orphan as he felt his body hit the floor.

* * *

Jon watched as Aegon took the steps up to the Red Keep slowly and one at a time. He didn't need to ask to know why his brother was so apprehensive, no doubt his mind was imagining what had happened in there. His mother raped and murdered. His sister, Jon's sister, stabbed to death. The thought of someone doing that to a young girl sickened Jon. He had been brought up to know that women were to be protected, not attacked nor abused. Since this campaign had started he had quickly realised that not all men thought the way he did. He knew that even men that were marching with them were capable of rape, of murder in cold blood even. Aegon wouldn't stand for it, even during a war, but Jon knew damn well that he would never be able to punish all of those who committed such crimes. He suspected many would get away with it, far too many his book.

Ghost whined impatiently after they had been stood still just staring at the doors of the keep for what felt like forever. Aegon seemed to come to then, Jon saw him shake his head slightly before he turned to meet his eyes. "Can I do this?" he asked then, "Do you really think I can do this?"

"You can do this," Jon told him, reaching his hand out and placing it on his shoulder, "I'm right here"

"Thank you," Aegon nodded in a determined manner as Ghost let out another whine.

Aegon stepped forward then and Jon followed suit, staying at his side but just a step behind him, it was Aegon walking in as the conquering King, not him. The men followed behind, two of them darting forwards to open up the doors. Jon thought it strange that they weren't even locked. Even without hope of victory surely Stannis would have made sure that his queen and his daughter were safely locked in the keep. Perhaps it was more of Loras Tyrell's work. Aegon walked through then, Jon still just behind him, the men keeping their distance slightly. Their footsteps echoed eerily in the vast space and Jon couldn't help but let his eyes wander around, taking in everything about it. He imagined the dining hall at Winterfell could easily fit in here at least five times. Everything just seemed so grand and this was just the first room. The throne room. His eyes fell on that then, on the iron throne made entirely of the swords of those men who had knelt before Aegon the Conqueror over three hundred years ago.

His steps faltered a hundred feet from it but Aegon carried on, faltering slightly before he began ascending the steps up to it. Jon saw him reach out a hand and touch the seat and he swallowed hard, he hadn't realised how overwhelming this moment would be and he could not imagine what Aegon was thinking. His brother turned then and Jon managed a smile for him. Aegon returned it, a more determined look in his eye now as he lowered himself slowly onto the twisted metal throne. As soon as he sat Jon knelt, hearing the clank of metal behind him as all the men who had come up with him knelt as well. "Rise up," Aegon said then, his voice echoing slightly in the space and each man did as he was told, Jon seeing that he was no longer sat on the throne; "thank you … all of you, for your loyal service to me. You and your comrades have fought bravely, and those who gave their lives to this cause will be celebrated, honoured. For now we must work to secure the city, I want the keep searched, you are to harm none that yield. I want the Tyrell's brought to me and I want Erinne Swann and Shireen Baratheon secured. You," he beckoned a man forwards and he bowed shortly at the foot of the throne; "take the banners up to the ramparts, I want the stag of house Baratheon taken down. When the sun rises I want the people to see the Targaryen dragons flapping in the wind."

"Are you alright?" Jon asked once the men began moving to carry out Aegon's orders, his brother coming at once down the steps to the throne.

"I will be," he nodded, "when I know where Stannis is"

"Lord Stark will find him," Jon assured him and he nodded.

"Your Grace!" Oberyn's cheerful tone cut through them and they turned to see him almost swaggering down the length of the hallway with about a hundred of his own men behind him; "What's with the face? You look as though you have just been condemned to death, not just taken the throne."

"It's overwhelming," Aegon said.

"It's yours," Oberyn told him, coming closer and placing his hand on his shoulder; "Elia would be proud … this is why she sent you away, so one day you could be here, reclaiming your birth right. And soon we will repay her sacrifice and then perhaps we will both know peace."

"Yes," Aegon agreed, "finding Clegane will be my most urgent priority"

"Good," Oberyn nodded, squeezing his shoulder lightly before letting him go.

* * *

Ned made sure that Stannis was handled with care as they carried him towards the Red Keep, hopefully there would be a Maester in there who could perhaps save him. He had urged caution to his men but he had been unsurprised when they retaliated, the result was an unconscious Stannis. At least he was alive, for how long Ned didn't know. They were into the throne room then and Aegon looked around at once, looking almost relieved to see him. Jon sent him a smile as he approached and Ned tried to return it as he looked back towards the injured Stannis.

"Who is it?" Aegon asked as he came closer.

"Stannis," Ned replied and the younger man's expression hardened for a moment.

"Alive?" it was Jon who asked and Ned nodded.

"Aye, for now," he confirmed.

"Take him to the Maester," Aegon said then.

"Yes your Grace," one of the men carrying him agreed then, carrying him out of sight.

"Is there any sign yet of his wife and daughter?" Aegon asked a group of men who had just returned.

"They are not in the keep," one replied.

"Damn it," Aegon cursed.

"They cannot be far, Loras Tyrell assured you he would keep them close," Jon soothed.

"Not close enough evidently," Oberyn commented, nodding towards Loras who had just entered.

"Where is she?" Aegon asked at once.

"I don't know," he practically cringed, "when I came back from you she was gone"

"And the girl?" Aegon snapped.

"Not in her rooms," Loras replied, his face drained of colour; "I don't know where Erinne would have gone … I promised she would be safe with me"

"Evidently she didn't believe you," Oberyn said wryly, looking towards Aegon.

"Where would she go?" he muttered furiously under his breath.

"If I may your Grace?" a new voice entered and they all turned.

"Who are you?" Aegon asked.

"I am Varys, your Grace," he replied and Griff nodded his confirmation.

"I have much to thank you for, but it seems perhaps you have more for me?" Aegon raised his brows.

"I believe Erinne Swann and Shireen have gone to the Sept to seek sanctuary," Varys said.

"Why?" Aegon's brow furrowed in confusion.

"That is something you would have to ask them your Grace," Varys replied.

* * *

Erinne held Shireen tightly in her arms as the girl shook, hearing the sounds of screaming and the clash of swords reaching her ears. Shireen had her hands pressed over her ears and Erinne wished her own were free so she could do the same. Instead she clutched Shireen even closer and closed her eyes, praying to the Gods over and over that this would all soon be over. Despite itself her mind wandered to Stannis and she wondered if they had him yet. Had they captured him or would he be killed in the battle? She knew he would die, before it hadn't mattered to her. Him dying would mean nothing but that she could be with the man she truly loved again. Willas was still what she wanted but Stannis' death would affect her. She knew that damn well. Taking that moon tea once he had gone had made her hands shake and she had to fight the urge to gag as she'd swallowed it down. She had never wavered like that before, not once. Gods she hoped he would see sense and give up, at least try and bend the knee so he could be sent to the Wall. That way she would still be free to marry Willas but the death of her husband would not be on her conscience. She knew it was partly her fault, that if she was any kind of wife she would have told Stannis what Loras was planning. He was her friend though, her future good-brother and she knew his reasons well enough.

She was pulled from her brooding then as the doors of the Sept were flung open. Shireen jumped in her arms and Erinne's own body jerked of its own accord as the sound of armoured footsteps cam clanking down the great aisle. The High Septon stepped down from the altar at the base of which they were cowering then, and stepped towards those who were approaching. "This is a sacred place," he said then, his voice shaking slightly; "those inside are under the protection of the Gods and will not be harmed."

"I have no desire to harm anyone," the man at the helm of the party said then and Erinne moved her eyes to him, seeing his fair hair and knowing he was the new King; "Erinne Swann?" he asked then, looking towards her and she nodded numbly.

"Yes," she whispered, her mouth dry and her heart pounding.

"I have no intention to hurt you," he told her then, "I swear"

"I …" she started, having no idea what she was going to say as she carefully prised Shireen from her and stood up, placing her body in front of the younger girls.

"Bend the knee," he said softly, meeting her eyes, "you will not be harmed"

"And Shireen?" she asked, her eyes darting around, trying to find Ser Loras but not seeing him.

"Is a child, an innocent child," he said.

"She has suffered enough," she said, stepping towards Aegon and swallowing hard.

"I believe we all have my Lady," he said and she nodded slightly vigorously.

"I cannot argue with that," she agreed, hesitating slightly before lowering herself into a curtsey; "your Grace," she finished, looking up to meet his eyes.

"You can return to the keep with us, you will be kept under guard until more formal arrangements are made for the two of you," Aegon told her.

"Can we stay together?" Erinne asked him and he considered her for a moment.

"Yes," he finally said and she breathed a sigh of relief; "come, let's go"

"Shireen," she turned, kneeling down and coaxing the girl towards her; "come on get up now Shireen, we are safe to return to the keep"

"Where's father?" Shireen asked and Erinne swallowed hard and she helped her up to her feet and looped her arm firmly with hers.

"I don't know," Erinne told her, avoiding everyone else's gaze; "but I promise we will be able to find out when we return to the keep."

* * *

Jon was acutely aware of the letter shoved into his doublet as he walked down the hallways in the wake of a couple of guards. It had come for him that morning just before they had infiltrated the Capitol but he hadn't opened it. He was scared of opening it, scared of seeing her reply. He was still scared, even now that the battle was won and he was still standing. He would read it once he had done what he had promised her all those months ago. Once he had done that he felt he would have the courage to read her reply, already praying to the Gods that she would return his feelings. The guards came to a stop then and gestured towards the door and he nodded his thanks before coming forward and entering the chamber slowly. He could hear the ragged breathing coming from the bed and he approached slowly, the man lying in it turning his head as he heard his approach. Stannis. Jon felt nothing by anger towards him. Anger at what he had put his family through by imprisoning Lord Stark. Anger at what he had put Aegon through by allowing his red witch to take Val. Anger for what he had done to Margaery and Steffon. That poor baby would never know his father thanks to his own uncle. It made Jon sick to his stomach.

"Who are you?" Stannis choked out then, his eyelids fluttering.

"A friend of Margaery's," he answered; "Margaery Tyrell … your brother's widow. You have no idea how much she would wish to be in my place right now, seeing you suffer"

"What do you want?" Stannis rasped out.

"I made her a promise," Jon said, moving closer; "I promised her I would tell you something before you died"

"Well you'd best get on with it," he struggled to say; "I don't think I have many breaths left"

"She was pregnant when you killed Renly," Jon told him and his eyes widened a fraction; "she gave birth to a son, Steffon she named him. Aegon has already promised him Storm's End"

"At least …" Stannis took a deep shuddering breath, "at least it will stay … with the family …"

"She wanted you to know that," Jon told him quietly before he backed away from him.

"My wife," Stannis gasped and Jon paused at the door; "my daughter?"

"They will be safe," Jon said, "Aegon is no monster."

With that he let himself back into the hallway, retreating a good way from the guards before he leant back against the wall and finally slid the letter from his doublet. He swallowed hard as he turned it over in his hands before he snapped the seal, the crack almost deafening to him. Her words covered the parchment but he didn't read a single one of them, not yet. His eyes scanned down to the end of the letter to find her parting words. At once his heart seemed to stop in his chest for a long moment as he took them in. In the next instant a burst of relieved laughter came from him, his mouth splitting into a wide smile as he drank them in again, scarcely able to believe she had written them. _I love you too Jon, Margaery._

* * *

**A/N: **Aegon's King finally but there's still plenty more to come! Hope you enjoyed, more soon!

:)


	60. Tyrell Truths

**A/N: **Aegon is King but there is much more to come, I have so many loose ends I don't know how I'm going to tie them up, I just seem to be creating more and more! Anyway, that's my problem, not yours. Here's the new chapter, I really hope you enjoy.

Thanks again everyone for reading!

:)

* * *

**Tyrell Truths**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne walked slowly into the throne room, her heart pounding in her chest as she fixed her eyes determinedly on Aegon and ignored those of Willas that she could feel boring into her. If she looked into his eyes she would lose her nerve, likely she would break down in front of everyone. She knew she needed to speak with him. She knew that the thing she wanted most in the world was to be in his arms, but she wasn't free. Not yet. She came to a halt in front of the Iron Throne then and dropped down into an elegant curtsey before she rose back up, meeting the new King's eyes. "Your Grace," she greeted, "you have been most gracious and kind in offering me pardon. I am loathe to ask anything else of you but I must … I must see my husband while he still lives."

Aegon looked visibly surprised by her request but she kept her eyes steady on his, silently pleading with him. The last thing she needed was to have to get down on her knees and beg him, especially in front of Willas. She could still feel his eyes boring into her and she wished that she could explain her actions to him but the truth was that she couldn't. She loved Willas with all her heart but she had shared something with Stannis. Something that meant something to her despite everything he had done. Despite it all he had never done any harm to her. Despite everything he was still her husband and after her baby had been forced from her he had been the only one to hold her.

"Very well," Aegon said slowly then, "you may go, Ser Loras, you can escort her."

"Thank you, your Grace," she bobbed into another curtsey before trailing to where Loras was waiting with an unreadable expression on his face.

He bowed his head to her and she nodded in return before avoiding his gaze as he turned to lead her out of one of the side doors. They walked in silence through the hallways and it felt as though it was crushing her. Loras had something to say to her, she just knew it, so when he halted and turned to her she was unsurprised. She swallowed hard then, her mind racing with all the things he might want to say to her. Did he have a message from Willas or was this all his own words?

"I know," he said simply and she blinked stupidly.

"Know what?" she asked in return.

"I guarded you day and night Erinne, did you think I wouldn't hear you?" he asked her.

"I don't …" she started.

"You fucked him," he practically snarled, "you fucked him and you enjoyed it"

"Loras …" she began again.

"All this time you have claimed to love my brother …" he spat.

"I do love him!" she burst out angrily; "But Stannis is still my husband. I know what he has done, how many people he had hurt but after that red witch poisoned me he was the only thing that kept me going. Without him I couldn't eat … I couldn't sleep. I would have wasted away. So yes," she met his eyes, the fury evident in them; "I let him have me … one more night before he went out to die; how could I deny him that? Deny myself that?"

"I'm sorry," Loras looked sheepish and she swallowed hard, fighting to regain her composure.

"Did you tell Willas?" she asked him then.

"No," he shook his head, meeting her eyes, "but you should … you and I both know what secrets can do to a person"

"Yes," she agreed, "I will tell him, but right now I have to see Stannis"

"He's just down the hallway, the door at the end," he told her and she nodded her head, swallowing hard again before she took the lead down towards where Loras had instructed.

She hesitated slightly, trying to compose herself before she turned the handle of the door and slipped inside, closing it firmly behind her. Stannis was laid out on the bed, she could see the bruises on his face and chest; she could see the blood seeking its way through the bandages that adorned his torso and his arms. She tried not to think of the other injuries that were no doubt covered by the sheets that were drawn up around his waist. Erinne conjured up all her courage then and walked towards him, hesitating at his side before she lowered herself to sit down on the edge of the bed. His eyes fluttered then, no doubt sensing her presence, and she forced a smile to her face.

"Is it that bad?" he rasped out.

"I don't know," she shook her head.

"I'm dying Erinne," he said then, "I can feel it"

"You don't know that, the Maester …" she started.

"The Maester dressed my wounds and abandoned me to my fate," he interrupted.

"I'll stay," she said, swallowing hard again.

"Where's Shireen?" he asked.

"Safe," she promised, "she will be taken as a ward somewhere, likely to the North or Dorne"

"The North," he said at once, "promise me you will push for the North"

"I promise," she said, meeting his eyes.

"And you?" he asked.

"I don't know," she shook her head again, "likely I will stay here for now, the Gods know I will not go back to Stonehelm, they would have to kill me first"

"Don't say that," he said almost fiercely, his hand coming to rest on her lower thigh.

"I won't go back there," she said, meeting his eyes, "not to the family who abandoned me"

"You will be married again," he said then, pain flashing in his eyes.

"Perhaps one day," she said quietly.

"You deserve happiness Erinne, true happiness. Marry a man who can love you, bear him children … you will be a wonderful mother," he breathed.

"I don't want you to die," she said before she could stop herself.

"I don't want to leave you," he managed a smile; "I could have made you happy …"

"I know," she whispered.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," he said.

"I wasn't sure they'd let me," she confessed.

"But here you are," he said, managing another smile for her.

"Here I am," she agreed, "and here I'll stay … I won't leave you to die alone"

"Thank you," he said, his eyes filling with tears.

She moved herself further onto the bed then, laying herself down carefully at his side, her hand coming to his chest so she could feel it still moving up and down. His own hand came to lay on the small of her back and she closed her eyes at his touch. She was feeling so many things at once it was a wonder that she didn't burst with it all. Guilt. Regret. Hope. Gods it was too much. She had to open her eyes then to let the tears escape from her, taking a great shuddering breath as Stannis' chest ceased to rise and fall under her touch. She didn't move. She just lay there, his hand still warm on her back and his skin still warm under her touch. Tears fell thick and fast but she made no move to brush them away. She had hoped for this all that time ago. She had counted the days until he was gone, had prayed for Aegon to come and end her nightmare. Now it all felt so different. He had been so different. She hadn't recognised the man she had married. He had become the man she had always hoped he would be, and now he was gone. It was over and all she could feel was an overwhelming sense of numbness seeking through her whole body.

* * *

Her face was streaked with tears as she walked slowly from the room and his hands balled into fists despite himself. He had longed for her, cried over her and the fate of their baby, wanting her in his arms so badly so he could offer her some grain of comfort. But it hadn't been him who had held her night after night. It had been him. Stannis. The man she claimed made her skin crawl. The man she wanted dead. He was dead now. The Maester had come to confirm it but still she had stayed in that room with his body. Willas had waited out in the hallway, waited and waited for her to emerge. Now she finally had and she was crying for him. Crying for the man she had sworn she could never love. He had never felt anger like it. Never. Erinne was his, she had promised him that over and over as they had lain completely bare and entwined with one another in her chambers. It was him. He was the only one. Willas knew now that it wasn't true but still he loved her. He reached his arm out to grab at her wrist as she passed by the alcove he was hidden in, pressing his hand to her mouth to stop her from screaming out.

"He's dead," he said simply, moving his hand away and seeing her eyes wide with fear.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then you are mine," he whispered back, moving his lips towards hers.

"Not here," she turned her face away, "not now"

"Then when?" he asked her almost angrily.

"He is not even cold!" she hissed at him, "Has it crossed your mind that I may need some time?!"

"You swore he was nothing to you," he accused her.

"He wasn't," she shook her head, "not then"

"And now?" he asked, dreading her answer.

"And now I need some time," she said, "he wasn't the monster I wanted him to be, I saw that after … after the baby"

"Our baby," he reminded her harshly.

"Yes, _our _baby," she responded angrily; "I let him mourn for another man's child, do you have any idea what that was like? As if I was not feeling enough guilt as it was! Stannis may not have been perfect, he was far from it, but without him I would have given up!"

"I wanted to come to you," his voice softened, his hand coming to stroke down her cheek.

"You couldn't," she whispered; "it would have been the death of us both"

"But instead he wormed his way into your heart. Do you love him?" he asked.

"No," she met his eyes, "but I cared for him. I'm sorry Willas … before … before he marched out I …"

"You what?" he asked, swallowing hard.

"I let him have me," she whispered and his hands clenched into fists again.

All at once he couldn't stand looking at her. He didn't want to be around her. Knowing she had surrendered her body to another when there was no reason to. She had been with him. Been with Stannis mere days ago. He turned away from her then, moving as quickly as he could down the hallways. She called out to him. She sounded desperate but he fought the urge to stop. The urge to turn around and crush her into his arms. He fought the urge to forgive her. He couldn't. Not yet. He couldn't be that weak.

* * *

"My first priority is to find Clegane, you know this," Aegon said incredulously.

"Your Grace please," Griff tried to reason with him, "you are King now, you cannot just leave the Capitol as soon as you have taken it. The people need to see you, they need to grow used to you and accept you. The Coronation should be your priority, that and your wedding to the lady Sansa."

"It will take Sansa weeks to travel here, even if she does come by boat … in that time I can dispatch with Clegane and nothing will be hanging over my head," Aegon argued.

"With respect your Grace, you don't even know where he is," Griff said.

"I _will _find him! I made a promise, to myself and to my uncle!" he snapped back.

"Don't let this consume you Aegon," Griff said softly then, moving to lay a hand on his shoulder; "you are King now … your people must come first, lust for personal revenge has destroyed many a man – I would hate to see it destroy you."

"I want him to pay," Aegon snarled.

"He will," Griff assured him, "in time. He will know you are coming for him, waiting for it will likely only make it all the worse for him. Not knowing whether the next knock on his door will be his death."

"And how many more women and children do you think he will have raped and murdered before that?!" Aegon demanded.

"You're better than this," Griff met his eyes and Aegon swallowed hard.

"I want to be free from it, is that too much to ask?" he said quietly.

"Killing him won't free you. I don't doubt it will make you feel better for a time, satisfied no doubt. But it won't bring your mother back, nothing can do that. You need to focus on your own family and your own reign … Clegane will get what's coming to him, I can promise you that," Griff told him.

"You're right I know you are," Aegon nodded in defeat; "I'll send for Sansa, and for Margaery Tyrell"

"Margaery Tyrell?" Griff frowned slightly.

"Yes," he confirmed, "I have a match for her, and it's high time her son was taken home."

* * *

Loras watch Willas as he swilled what was left of his wine around in his glass, his eyes slightly unfocused as he brought it up to his lips and drained the last of it. In the next moment he was reaching out for the flagon and pouring another measure rather clumsily. He would love to say something to his brother but he knew it was likely Erinne that had got him in such a state and he could say nothing of her in front of their father and grandmother. They were insisting on them dining together again and Loras knew why. His father was still under guard, the new King wasn't sure yet whether he was going to extend his pardon that far. Consequently his grandmother seemed to think that the best way of softening Aegon was to show a united family front and make it look as though they had known about Loras' plan all along. She was still furious with him for omitting her from his schemes but he knew damn well she would have scuppered them. With Aegon on the throne the Tyrell's would be pushed back, lose the power they had gained when Stannis had been King. After her stunt with the wine Loras was even more convinced that his grandmother would have stopped at nothing to make sure Aegon never sat the iron throne. She didn't know about Margaery yet either, Loras had finally confided in Willas a few weeks previously but he had told no one else.

"He seems to be favouring the Starks, perhaps there will be a way in there," his grandmother said then and he turned his head towards her incredulously.

"What?" he asked.

"Starks," she said sharply, "their daughter is to marry Aegon, but they have another do they not?"

"What is this scheme now mother?" his father asked her tiredly.

"Sister to the Queen, come now wake up," she snapped her fingers at them and Loras closed his eyes in despair.

"Arya Stark is barely older than Shireen, was that not bad enough?" Loras asked, "Do you not think it best we bow our heads meekly and return to Highgarden?"

"No I do not!" she retorted, "We did not come all this way just to be beaten back"

"Did you learn nothing from Renly?" Loras asked then, "Margaery even?"

"He was killed by magic, and she was a little fool. If she had not run off to the Gods know where then we may have been able to push for a match between her and Aegon," she said.

"You're mad," Loras stated, "Margaery will end up better off than all of us; you mark my words"

"Consider them marked," his grandmother narrowed her eyes at him.

"Where is your sister?" his father asked sharply then and he shook his head.

"I'm not telling you anything, you won't use her as any kind of pawn again. Once I know Margaery is safely away from your clutches I'll tell you everything," he said.

"Damn it Loras!" his father started.

"Leave it!" his grandmother stepped in, "We still have Willas and there are options available to him now he is free from Shireen."

Willas looked up then, anger flashing in his dark eyes as he narrowed them towards their grandmother and Loras fixed his eyes on him, silently pleading with him to keep his mouth shut. Whatever had happened between him and Erinne this afternoon, Loras knew that he still loved her and that he would still want to marry her. Their grandmother talking about yet another match for him would not be what he wanted to hear but Loras prayed he would bite his tongue. If the truth came out now about Willas and Erinne then more would come tumbling after and his family were on the brink of imploding as it was.

"The Stark girl you think mother?" his father said.

"Perhaps," she nodded her head, clearly pondering her next move.

"I don't want the Stark girl," Willas slurred then and Loras gave him an insistent look.

"I am sure she is more favourable than Shireen," she said, "such a shame how all that turned out, especially after all the effort I went to in insuring that Swann girl didn't deliver a son"

"What?" Willas whispered so quietly and so dangerously that Loras almost cringed.

"All for naught," she shook her head regretfully.

"You did that?" Willas said, "You poisoned the wine? Poisoned Erinne?"

"Something had to be done Willas, what would be the point in marrying you to that diseased child if you were not rewarded with the throne?" she said.

Willas was up on his feet then, almost toppling over due to his leg and the amount of wine he had consumed. Loras saw his grandmother falter then as Willas stared down at her, his eyes raging with pure hatred. He got slowly to his own feet, moving round the table towards his brother just as Willas swept plates and glasses and bowls off the table. "How could you?!" he roared and Loras grabbed hold of him as he tried to launch himself at their grandmother. "Get your hands off me!" he snarled, "I swear to the Gods I will kill you! I will kill you with my bare hands! Let go of me Loras!"

"What in the name of the Gods?!" their father looked incredulous as he too stood up.

"That baby was mine!" Willas choked out, his voice that of pure agony.

"What?" their grandmother whispered, her face completely blanched.

"Erinne is the woman I was supposed to marry, had it not been for this damned leg!" he shouted, "She is everything to me and that child … that baby was mine … mine …"

"Willas … calm down," Loras urged him but he shrugged away from him with surprising strength, his hand snatching for his cane.

"How will I ever look her in the eye again?" Willas asked him then in utter despair; "She will never forgive me for this"

"You didn't do anything," Loras tried to reason with him.

"Didn't I?" he shrugged helplessly before he limped towards the door, all of them staring after him and not knowing what to say.

* * *

_Rosby_

* * *

_It was huge, likely the vastest expanse he had ever laid eyes on. There were seemingly hundreds of turrets, thousands of windows lit up in the dark sky. There were banners fluttering overhead but he couldn't quite make them out so he stepped closer, trying to see them through the darkness. A sudden roar reached his ears then and he looked around wildly for the source but he could see nothing. It only grew louder, a crashing, roaring, gurgle of noise but still he couldn't see where it was coming from. In the next instant it all made sense as the gigantic wave of water crashed down against the castle walls. He was sure they wouldn't crumble. How could something so vast and strong crumble? He kept his eyes on it as the wave grew steadily bigger, washing down over the stones, seeking into everything. It did crumble then, one stone at a time. It was agonisingly slow but the castle was falling. One of the turrets collapsed then, crashing through one of the thick walls and allowing the water to engulf even more. He could do nothing but stare, he was powerless to do anything to help but he could hear the screams._

_The wreckage was being swept towards him then and he tried to keep his eyes away from the bodies that were passing by him, his eyes going back to the castle which was being engulfed by yet another torrent of water. One of the banners floated passed him and he trained his eyes on it, finally recognising the sigil. His stomach churned uncomfortably then as two more bodies drifted towards him. They were so small and lifeless, each golden and beautiful. Their eyes were wide and glassy and he couldn't help but look down into them. He had seen those eyes before. He recognised them all too well. _

"Bran? Bran?!"

He was being shaken awake and his eyes flew open, his heart pounding in his chest as Val came into focus above him. "Is he alright?" another female voice said and he whipped his head around, seeking her out. "Jeyne," he gasped out, "I saw … I saw …"

"What did you see?" she asked him fearfully as his eyes stung with tears.

"I think it was Casterly Rock," he told her and her own eyes widened.

"Tell me!" she urged him almost desperately.

"Water," he said, "crashing down everywhere, destroying everything and I saw … I …"

"What Bran?" she asked him, tears welling in her own eyes now.

"Tommen and Myrcella," he said, "I saw them, they were …"

"Dead?" she whispered and he could only nod his head; "Oh Gods!" she choked out, her hands coming up to clasp over her mouth.

"Don't worry," Val soothed at once; "he has seen it, you have been warned and it can be prevented"

"What if it's too late?" Jeyne asked her.

"Aegon said Casterly Rock is near impenetrable, even with men missing, no?" Val raised her brows.

"Jaime said they would be fine, he only left a few hundred men," Jeyne whispered.

"And solid walls," she said firmly.

"I need to get word to him, I need to go to him!" Jeyne said, jumping to her feet.

"Wait!" Val jumped up after her; "I'll be back Bran I promise," she assured him before she hurried off after Jeyne.

She was approaching the men next to the horses and Val tore after her, grabbing hold of her arm just as she reached them. "What are you doing?" she asked her.

"I'm going to the Capitol, I have to get to Jaime," Jeyne replied.

"You can't go! Aegon said we're to stay here until we're sent for, it might not be safe!" Val implored.

"Since when do you take orders from a man?" Jeyne shot back.

"Since I am carrying his child," Val retorted.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," Jeyne said, turning back towards the men.

"And you're so sure you're not with child?" Val grabbed her back and Jeyne stared at her.

"Why would you say that?" she asked.

"I'm not fool, I know you let him bed you even though you're not wed yet," Val said, "can you be certain he hasn't put a child in you?"

"No … but …" Jeyne stuttered.

"You don't know what you might come across if you ride there now, there is a reason we have not yet been sent for. Don't go back into that pit of hell blind Jeyne," Val insisted.

"I have to," she whispered, "you don't understand. If Jaime loses them as well I fear what he might do. I don't care what I have to face, I'm going to the Capitol because I need to be with him when he gets the news. I cannot just write it in a letter and let him read it alone. Stay with Bran, look after him, I need to be with the man I love."

* * *

**A/N: **I just made even more loose ends didn't I? *sigh* More soon!

:)


	61. Parting and Promises

**A/N: **New chapter! Thank you to everyone as always, really appreciate all of you who review/follow/favourite, you're all awesome!

**lollylove215: **Thank you! For news of Robb and Winterfell do read below! ;)

On with the chapter, hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Parting and Promises**

* * *

_The Kings Road_

* * *

Robb stamped into his tent, snatching a towel from one of the side cabinets and rubbing it furiously through his hair. It had been raining non-stop for three days now and he and his men were sick to death of it. According to scouts they were just east of the Twins which meant they were likely halfway to Winterfell. It was good progress, it had been nine days since they had left the main army at Maidenpool. Robb was waiting on word from the Capitol, wanting to know that his family were all safe and secure. The not knowing made it hard for him to sleep at night, as did being away from Dany. It had been difficult before but it was worse now that he knew that she'd been hurt. She had sent him letter after letter reassuring him that she and the baby were fine but he would not be content with her words until he saw her with his own eyes. He had asked her what happened and was almost certain that she was playing it down. He needed to see her, he was almost physically aching with the need to see her, to hold her and to feel her safe and warm in his arms. She seemed to think that he might be able to feel the baby move through her skin on his return; that had at least brought a smile to his face for a time. It had soon been washed away in the pouring rain though as he and his men had set out again just after dawn.

Now they had stopped for the night again but he knew he would only get a few short hours of sleep before they were up and breaking their fast quickly before saddling up again. It would be easy to complain but it had been his own idea to push the horses and themselves as hard as they could. The sooner they were back the sooner he could rest easy again. Not just him but the men with him. The majority of them had either lost someone or had their wives, daughters or sisters violated. The thought made him sick, made him imagine it happen to Dany. Sometimes he would wake up shaking, imagining her crying and pleading and begging them to stop. In his dreams he would never reach her in time and it shook him down to his very core. He would never have her hurt again. Never. He had promised her that after the fire and yet she had been, he wouldn't stand for it again. He couldn't.

"My Lord?" he looked round to see the silhouette of one of his men by the entrance to his tent.

"Come," Robb replied tiredly.

"Apologies my Lord, a raven," he said, handing a roll of parchment to him.

"Thank you," Robb nodded gratefully.

"See you at dawn my Lord," he bowed shortly to him before backing away.

Robb offered him a faint smile just before he disappeared from the tent before he turned his eyes back to the letter in his hands. The seal was blank and he frowned slightly as he snapped it, his frown smoothing out when he recognised his father's hand on the parchment. He sat down as he read through it, taking in every word, the worry that had been built up in him so long easing somewhat. His father was safe and unharmed. As was Jon. And Aegon. Stannis was dead and Aegon had already sent for Sansa. Robb imagined that he would meet the wedding party on his way back towards Winterfell and he wondered vaguely if his mother would be part of it. If she was then that would leave Dany in charge of Winterfell. He knew she was more than capable of looking after everything but he didn't want too much piled on her in her condition. Theon was back now though, likely he would help her if he weren't too busy with the baby. He smiled slightly again, the thought of Theon as a father was almost laughable. Gods, so much had changed in the last year or so, he could barely get his head around any of it. The people he loved were safe though, that was the most important thing.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Sansa read through Aegon's letter again as she stood facing her bed on which three large trunks lay full to the brim with her belongings. She had done this before, her heart fit to burst with excitement at the thought of going to the Capitol, at the thought that she would one day be Queen. She had been such a fool then and she determined that she would not be again. Aegon had been reassuring, had promised her that things would be different and she _wanted _to believe him. She was still on her guard though, how could she not be after Joffrey? Aegon wasn't like Joffrey. He was nothing like Joffrey. That at least brought her some comfort as she looked over his reassuring words again. There was nothing written about Val this time but Sansa imagined that she was still there. It was guessed that she was about as far along in her pregnancy as Dany and so Sansa imagined that she would be at the Capitol before the child came. She would be married. Queen. And then her husband's bastard would be born. She swallowed hard then and remembered her silent promise to herself. She would not punish Aegon for it and she would not punish his child. Be gracious. Always gracious. But not a fool, she would never be a fool again, she was determined of that.

"All set?" her mother's voice came from the doorway and she turned to her.

"Yes," she managed a smile.

"Are you ready?" her mother asked then and Sansa swallowed hard.

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"I hate that I will have to part from you," her mother said, "but I feel more easy about it this time, you may take a while to find your feet but I think you and Aegon could be happy together in the end"

"What if I never come first?" Sansa asked then.

"What do you mean?" her mother frowned.

"He loves her, he told me himself," she said.

"Oh Sansa," her mother sighed.

"They will have a child together soon enough," Sansa said, shaking her head.

"You will have children of your own," her mother soothed.

"I know," she nodded, determining to pull herself together; "I know … I'm being foolish, I should think myself lucky really that he is a caring man"

"Indeed," her mother squeezed her shoulders, "but he is lucky to have you Sansa, don't ever sell yourself short, you are worth more than that"

"Thank you mother," she smiled, "I'm so glad you will be by my side this time"

"You can tell me anything, you know that don't you?" her mother met her eyes, "No matter where I am, I am your mother and if you need me you only have to say so."

Sansa could only nod then as her eyes filled with tears and her mother pulled her into her arms at once. She clung to her, inhaling that uniquely reassuring scent that she possessed that she would miss so much when she was away from her. At least her mother was journeying with her though, at least when she walked into the Sept for her wedding she would have both her parents there. She wished she could have her whole family but it was impossible. Arya was staying behind, as was Rickon as their mother felt he was too young. Arya had been apologetic but Sansa understood well enough that her sister never wanted to venture south again. Bran would be there at least, and Jon. Likely they would meet Robb on the road south and she was slightly regretful that he would not be there. His place was with Dany though, especially as she grew bigger with child. As much as she wanted her brother at her wedding, she knew that it was more important that he be present for the birth of his child. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then before finally pulling away from her mother's embrace.

"We should go," she said determinedly, nodding her head; "the men will be waiting for us."

* * *

Dany watched as Sansa's belongings were hauled up onto the back of the cart, the girl herself making her way down the steps of the keep arm in arm with Catelyn, a slightly apprehensive look in her eye. Dany could scarce believe she was going, that the war was finally over and Aegon had his throne. Margaery emerged from the keep then with Steffon in her arms, men following on with another trunk full of her possessions. She was going to the Capitol first and then onto Storm's End and Dany had a suspicion that she would not be going alone. Margaery had confessed to her that there was something between her and Jon and that she was quietly hopeful that he might intend to take her as his wife. Dany didn't doubt it, especially now that both she and Sansa had been sent for. Sansa was embracing her brother and sister then and so Dany instead approached Margaery who sent her a wide smile as she came towards her.

"I'm going to miss you," Dany said, "I've grown used to having you around"

"You'll have to visit," Margaery said, "especially if things go to plan …"

"I'm sure they will," Dany said reassuringly, "and I promise we will visit, just as soon as the little one is old enough," she continued, rubbing her stomach slightly.

"I wish you all the luck of the Gods," Margaery said sincerely, "just remember, it hurts like hell but it is worth every single second"

"Thank you," Dany smiled slightly wryly and she laughed slightly in return.

"I'll write, every week I promise," she said then, adjusting Steffon slightly in her arms.

"Me too," Dany smiled.

"And me," Adele's voice came from behind them and they both turned to smile at her, seeing Theon lurking just behind her with their son in his arms.

"You must visit too," Margaery insisted, "it would be such a shame if our boys didn't know one another"

"We will I'm sure," Adele nodded.

"I think they're ready," Margaery said, "we ought to go"

"Take care of yourselves," Adele said, stepping forward to embrace her as best she could.

"And you," Margaery smiled.

"Good luck," Dany whispered as she moved to embrace her; "I know it will all work out"

"Thank you," she whispered back before pulling away.

She moved away then and Dany followed on after her, smiling to her again as she came to a stop and was helped up into the carriage by one of the guards. Sansa turned then at her approach and she forced herself to keep the smile on her face. "I wish I could be there," Dany said apologetically, "but I promise I will write to you, and no doubt we will visit. I've never seen the Capitol."

"It's very grand," Sansa smiled slightly, "I cannot wait for you to see it"

"Me neither," Dany said, her eyes stinging slightly.

"We ought to go Sansa," Catelyn said regretfully then and Dany saw the sadness in her eyes.

"I'll miss you," Sansa whispered and Dany stepped forward to embrace her at once.

"He'll make you happy Sansa, I know he will," she murmured into her ear as they held one another.

"Thank you," Sansa said as she pulled away, moving towards her horse and being helped up onto it.

"I'm not sure when Ned and I will return," Catelyn said then, "hopefully our grandchild can hold on until we make it back"

"Yes," Dany agreed with a smile; "but don't rush back on my account. Enjoy the wedding, spend as much time with her as you need to"

"I thank the Gods Robb married you," Catelyn told her then with an affectionate smile, placing her hand on her cheek for a moment before she moved away towards her own horse.

Adele and Theon came to Dany's side then as the horses were kicked into motion, the carriage and the carts following on after them. Rickon and Arya and the wolves all tore after them towards the main gate, waving and exclaiming their farewells over and over. Dany supposed she ought to tell them to be more dignified but she didn't have the heart. Truthfully, had it not been for her swollen belly, then likely she would have done exactly the same thing. Instead she contented herself with raising her hand up to wave and keeping the smile on her face as the wedding party disappeared from view.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Will you at least think about this?!" Loras asked him desperately but Willas shrugged him off.

"What is there to think about?!" he shot back at him.

"They could kill her," Loras said quietly.

"She killed my unborn child," Willas hissed at him.

"She didn't know that," he shook his head.

"And that makes it alright?! Whether the child was mine or not she poisoned and innocent woman and killed her baby, she deserves to be punished," Willas said.

"She's still our grandmother," Loras said.

"She pushed for the alliance with Renly, she forced Margaery to run away, she turned us towards Stannis, had me betrothed to a little girl and _she _poisoned Erinne. What next? What does she have to do to make you understand? She needs to be stopped Loras!" he insisted.

"Alright," Loras nodded, "at least let me come to the King with you"

"Fine," Willas said, "but if you speak one word in her defence I am finished with you as well."

Loras nodded then and Willas was satisfied as he tightened his grip on his cane and walked determinedly into the throne room where the King was holding court. Aegon seemed to have just finished speaking with one man and Willas moved forwards before he could change his mind, feeling Loras right behind him. Aegon beckoned him closer then and Willas did as he was bid, bowing as best he could before straightening up and looking the King dead in the eye.

"I have come to report a crime your Grace," Willas said.

"A crime?" Aegon raised his brows.

"A crime of poisoning your Grace," Willas confirmed.

"Explain," Aegon frowned, his eyes drifting towards his temporary council for a moment.

"The Lady Erinne Swann was poisoned with moon tea," Willas said, "the culprit was believed to be the priestess Melisandre but that was untrue"

"Then who was the culprit?" Aegon asked him, his frown deepening.

"My grandmother, Olenna Tyrell," Willas said, swallowing hard.

"You are certain of this? Your own grandmother?" Aegon asked.

"Yes," he nodded, keeping his eyes on the King's, "I am certain, I had it from her own mouth. She sought to ensure Stannis had no male heir, so when he passed his daughter would be his only issue."

"And as your betrothed you would be named King," Aegon nodded in understanding.

"Yes your Grace," he confirmed.

"Can any others speak to confirm your accusation?" Aegon asked and Willas turned to Loras.

"I heard her confession your Grace," Loras told him and he sighed heavily.

"Anyone from outside the family?" Aegon asked then.

"If I may your Grace," Varys stepped forwards, his eyes lingering on Loras for a moment before he turned his attention to Aegon; "I too have heard reports of the Lady's penchant for poisons … and whispers that she was truly to blame for Lady Erinne's miscarriage."

"I see," Aegon seemed to be pondering their words, his eyes sliding again to his council.

"She is guilty your Grace, believe me … I wish she was not," Willas said then and he nodded.

"You are certain?" Aegon's eyes bored into his and he heard the meaning in his words.

"I'm certain your Grace," he nodded determinedly and Aegon beckoned several guards towards him.

"Take the Lady Olenna to the prison, make sure she is housed with some comfort – she is an old woman after all. She will be questioned later," Aegon ordered.

"Yes your Grace," they agreed, bowing before him before taking off to do his bidding.

"Thank you, your Grace," Willas bowed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to think of the words he needed to explain all this to Erinne.

* * *

Erinne was alone, Shireen had gone down to the Sept to pray for her father but she hadn't been able to face joining her. The guilt was too much. Shireen had been devastated, both her parents were gone and she would soon be sent away from her step-mother. Erinne wished the girl would be allowed to stay with her but she knew it would never be allowed to happen. Likely Shireen would not want to be with her anyway when she eventually found out about her and Willas. That was if Willas would even want her anymore. He had promised, he would do anything to make her his wife but what if she had ruined that? Damn it, why had she listened to Loras and told him the truth? What if he never forgave her? What would happen to her then?

A knock came at the door then and she jumped, blinking stupidly for a moment before she got up to answer it. She swallowed hard when she saw Willas on the other side. Carefully she scanned his features, relief spreading through her that he didn't look angry. She dared to hope then as she invited him inside, closing the door carefully behind him as he entered and moved to sit down. Was she imagining the look of apprehension in his eyes? Gods, what if he had come to tell her that it was all over between them?

"I wasn't expecting you," she finally said, unable to stand the crushing silence.

"I had to come before you heard from another," he said.

"Heard what?" she frowned at him, coming to sit herself down next to him.

"I love you," he told her, taking her hand in his and meeting her eyes.

"Why does that sound so ominous?" she whispered.

"The baby …" he started and she stiffened at once; "what happened it … it wasn't that witch …"

"I don't understand," she frowned, "Loras came, he told Stannis he was certain!"

"It was my grandmother," he said so quietly then she was sure she had misheard him.

"What?" she almost snarled; "Why?"

"So you wouldn't give Stannis a son who would usurp Shireen," he told her quietly.

"So you could be King?!" she wrenched her hand from his and stood up, her body shaking.

"You talk like it was my idea!" he shot back at her, rising to his own feet.

"How could she do this?! How long have you known?!" she demanded.

"I found out last night," he said, "I went to the King with it this morning and now I have come to you"

"Where is she?" she asked him, her eyes furious.

"Imprisoned," he replied, "as she should be"

"I can't believe this," she whispered, shaking her head.

"If I had any idea …" he said, shaking his own head and taking a tentative step towards her.

"She killed our baby," she choked out, the realisation of it hitting her all over again.

"I know," he said in an agonized tone, pulling her into his arms, relieved when she didn't protest.

Erinne just let him hold her, clinging to him as though her life depended on it. She was so sure that it was over with, that the culprit had been found and put down. Now she knew they hadn't it felt as though she was suffering it all over again. When she closed her eyes she could see Stannis' tortured face above her as the blood trickled down her thighs. She could hear him telling her to hold on for the Maester and before she could stop herself she was choking out a sob. Willas' arms came tighter around her then, just as she had wanted them to do that night when she had lost their precious baby. "Please don't leave me," she choked out, her hands fisting in his doublet; "I know I hurt you … what I did with him but please … please don't leave me!"

"I won't," he whispered against her hair, "I promise you I won't, not ever."

* * *

Jaime stamped up to his chambers, it had finally been agreed that he would take men back to Casterly Rock. He had been beside himself when Jeyne had turned up at the keep the night before in the dead of night and soaked to the skin. Through her chattering teeth she had managed to tell the King and all the other Lords what Bran had seen. At first Jaime wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, the boy was only dreaming for the love of the Gods. That hope had trickled away almost at once though as he saw the unease in Lord Stark's eyes and the way all the other Lords took it all so seriously. Aegon himself had been convinced at once, calling his council around him to make a plan. Consequently Jaime was leaving on the morrow with his own men and others from the northern armies and the Golden Company. He expected that it was Ironborn coming; that was what could be inferred from the boys dream. Gods, if he didn't get there in time … he shuddered at the thought as he let himself into his chambers, Jeyne jumping up from her seat by the fire at once. He was leaving her tomorrow, he refused to drag her into another war camp. She would be looked after here until he returned and she would be looked after as the Lady of the Rock.

"Come here," he said softly and she did as she was told, coming to be folded into his arms.

"Has a decision been made?" she asked him almost fearfully.

"Yes," he nodded, kissing the top of her head.

"Well?" she asked.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he told her.

"And me?" she questioned, pulling back from him slightly.

"Will stay here," he said and her face fell; "as my wife"

"Wife?" she whispered.

"If you'll still have me," he smiled slightly, "the Septon is waiting for us"

"Now?" she raised her brows.

"Now," he confirmed and her lips quirked up into a wide smile.

He pulled her against him then, capturing her lips in a slow, meaningful kiss that had desire swelling him in an instant. A hum of pleasure came from her then and he moved her back towards the bed despite himself, his hands coming to find the laces of her dress. He wanted to lose himself in her just for a few moments. He just wanted to forget the danger that was facing Tommen and Myrcella, just for a moment. He just needed a moment of selfishness with Jeyne, just once more before he rode out and left her. "I thought … the … Septon … was waiting," she murmured out between his kisses but he merely pushed her gently back onto the bed in response and pulled her dress away from her. Shrugging out of his doublet in the next moment and loosening his shirt so he could pull it up and over his head. "The Septon can damn well be patient," he growled at her, tossing his shirt across the room before he practically pounced on her.

* * *

"It's so … grand," Val said as she let her eyes wander the chambers Aegon had set aside for her.

"If you need anything …" he tailed off and she shook her head.

"I feel like I have too much," she said.

"Val …" he started.

"Not that I'm ungrateful," she said quickly.

"I didn't think you were," he said softly.

"What will you do now? Now that Casterly Rock is under threat?" she asked.

"I will get the Capitol in order, Ser Jaime will see to the Rock," he told her.

"You won't be fighting then?" she pressed him.

"Not unless the Mountain materializes," he said darkly.

"I wish you wouldn't," she whispered, "I have heard horrible tales of him Aegon … promise you won't put yourself in danger"

"I swore to put him down," he told her.

"Not by yourself!" she implored him and he turned away from her; "Please Aegon … the thought of … the thought of having this baby terrifies me. What if I die like Dalla did? What then if you go and get yourself crushed by the Mountain? What hope will our child have then?!"

"Stop it," he said, turning to face her again; "don't say things like that. There is no reason you should die, there are Maesters here, skilled men"

"Fine … I don't die, but you still could and then what would happen?" she demanded.

"Jon would take care of you," he said dismissively.

"Why would you fight so long for the throne only to risk your life as soon as you've taken it?! It makes no sense Aegon, Jon doesn't want to be King you know he doesn't!" she argued with him.

"Calm yourself, it's not good for the child," he told her.

"Don't give me that," she said, her stare hard, "you said you wanted to be a father"

"I do," he insisted.

"Then prove it!" she snapped, "Give up this ridiculous notion of taking on that monster by yourself!"

"Val …" he tried to take her hand but she snatched it away.

"I am here because of you, because you were so adamant that this baby needed you, and now you are being this reckless! I understand you want revenge Aegon, but if you are willing to risk your life for this and miss seeing your child born, your child growing up then I don't know what the point of me being here is!" she said furiously, tears stinging her eyes.

"What are you saying?" he frowned at her.

"I'm saying I have given up my home to give you this chance, given up my life and my freedom so my baby can know its father, what was the point if you are just going to get yourself killed?!" she demanded, a tear trickling down her cheek.

"I won't," he shook his head, bringing his hand up to wipe it away.

"Swear you won't risk yourself, even for him," she implored him, her eyes wide and insistent.

"I swear," he said after a long moment of just looking into her eyes; "I swear to you, I won't risk myself, not even for him."

* * *

**A/N: **I'm tying these knots as fast as I can! More soon!

:)


	62. Schemes and Surety

**A/N: **Here's another one for you folks! Hope you enjoy it, and thanks as always for reading!

**Guest: **Sorry you thought the last chapter was rushed. I saw it more as a bridge to tying up knots rather that actually getting anything tied up. The only thing that was really resolved was Jaime marrying Jeyne haha! Don't worry, I'm not in a huge hurry to finish this, when it's done it's done, however long it takes.

**Guest: **Aegon sleeping with Val isn't something I really expect people to like. It happened though and now they have to live with it, I wanted a different angle to my pairings instead of just making everyone happy and in love right away. Real life isn't like that, and GoT certainly isn't like that!

Right then, onwards to the chapter!

:)

* * *

**Schemes and Surety**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

The last week had gone by in a blur for Aegon, every day seemingly the same. He would get up, break his fast and then sit on the iron throne all day and listen to a succession of Lords attempting to butter him up. Some wanted more lands, others wanted favourable matches for their sons and daughters. Some had even gone so far as to offer their infant children to him as matches for the children he had yet to even have with Sansa. Preparations for the wedding and coronation were also in full swing as Sansa was due to arrive in the next few weeks. The winds had been unfavourable at White Harbour and so they had continued the journey by road. Jon seemed happy with that news, the thought of Margaery and Steffon travelling by sea had not gone down well with him. The last letters they had both received had place both women near the Twins so likely it would be two weeks or a shade less before they arrived at the Capitol. Aegon wasn't sure how he felt about that fact, knowing that the wedding would take place only a few days after Sansa's arrival. Val had been avoiding him as well since the preparations had started to take over, keeping to her rooms and refusing to see him. That only served to darken his mood, but then, as he had to frequently remind himself, all this was a mess of his own creation.

He sighed heavily as he dismissed the latest Lord who had come to lick his boots, his eyes travelling towards the door to see who had come to pester him next. It was Griff and he felt a little sense of relief as his oldest and most trusted advisor came towards him. "Tell me you have brought me good news," Aegon said and the older man grinned.

"Some good news yes, and questions about the coronation your Grace," he replied.

"Don't keep my in suspense," Aegon said.

"Dale and Matthos Seaworth have agreed to bend the knee, Lord Stark has agreed to vouch for the pair of them," Griff told him and he nodded slowly.

"And their father?" he asked.

"Stubbornly loyal to Stannis," Griff grimaced and Aegon sighed.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"What will you do?" Griff asked.

"I don't want to kill him," Aegon said, "really he has done nothing wrong … but I cannot pardon a man who will not kneel to me"

"Perhaps his sons can talk sense into him?" Griff suggested.

"Perhaps," Aegon nodded distractedly, "until then he can remain where he is. What else?"

"The High Septon needs to know whether you intend to have Lady Sansa crowned alongside you your Grace, or if you alone will be anointed," he said.

"She will be crowned alongside me," Aegon said without hesitation, almost surprising himself with the answer.

"If you are certain your Grace," Griff said, his own face a picture of surprise.

"I am," Aegon nodded, "most certain"

"Very good your Grace," he bowed shortly.

"Is that all?" Aegon asked.

"That's all," Griff confirmed.

"Best send in the next groveler then," he said lowly and the older man chuckled at him before he retreated from the throne and back towards the doors.

* * *

Ned watched Jon sparring in the tiltyard, a small smile on his face as his nephew wrong footed his opponent and had him flat on his back in the next moment. He clapped along with the others watching then and Jon turned his eyes on him as he pulled the defeated man up to his feet and thumped him heartily on the back. He crossed to him then and Ned allowed his smile to widen, pleased to see that Jon's own mirrored his. Things still weren't quite right between them but Ned was determined to fix things as best he could before he departed back to the North with Catelyn and Bran. Jon would be going to Storm's End soon enough, the betrothal between him and Margaery Tyrell was official in all but name and Ned was thrilled for him. He would miss him at Winterfell though, they all would. At least he would be nearby for Sansa though, that at least brought him some comfort.

"Good spar," he complimented Jon as he came to a halt in front of him.

"Aye, it wasn't bad," Jon grinned.

"I've just escaped from the seamstress," Ned told him.

"She's after me as well, apparently I'm not allowed to wear black to a wedding," he jested.

"Not even to your own?" Ned asked.

"I've not even asked her yet," Jon said, shaking his head, slight blush on his cheeks.

"A mere formality I'm sure," Ned said.

"Aye," Jon nodded, "I hope so"

"You're sure about her?" he checked then and Jon nodded vigorously.

"I love her," Jon said.

"And her boy?" Ned asked.

"I know he's not mine, but I can be a father to him, I know I can," Jon said.

"Aye," Ned nodded, his eyes tight.

"I'll never be Renly but I can try my best for him," Jon said.

"I know," Ned forced a smile.

"You managed to do it for me," Jon said quietly.

"You were always my blood," he said, "it was easy … it still is"

"I'll miss you," Jon said before he could stop himself, "all of you …"

"We'll miss you," Ned nodded, blinking rather rapidly.

"I don't know what my real father was like," Jon said then, "but I don't know how I would have been any happier than I was being raised at Winterfell by you and Lady Stark"

"Thank you Jon," he swallowed hard, "you don't know what it means to hear you say that … what it will mean to Cat"

"Thank you for everything you did for me … uncle," Jon smiled.

"It was my pleasure," Ned said honestly, stepping forward and pulling him into a tight embrace.

* * *

_Fair Isle_

* * *

Dusk was settling as the last of the row boats pulled up on the shore. Most men had stayed aboard the ships out at sea but others had come aboard, desperate for wine and wenches. Euron already had his breeches unlaced and was relining back next to the fire swigging from a bottle of red while his whore set about servicing him with her mouth. Victarion narrowed his eyes at the sight before turning away. They were too close to Casterly Rock now and still he had no plan to thwart his brother. The only option left to him seemed to be to kill him but he wasn't sure he could let himself commit that sin, not after everything else he had done. All the men would die if they tried to take the Rock, the fortress was impenetrable, even with the men absent. How Euron couldn't see it was beyond him. Euron was mad. Beyond help, and the Gods knew what state Balon would be in by now. Euron was right about one thing, Balon was finished. Victarion had no doubt that the new Targaryen King would see to it that his head was skewered atop a spike. He imagined his own and Euron's would join it if he didn't think of something quickly.

He stamped down to the beach then, sick of hearing the sounds of whoring and revelry. There was an old fisherman's shack nearby and he went and sat himself down on the edge of the tiny porch. The door was half staved in and there was no longer any glass in the solitary window and he imagined it had been uninhabited for some time. He put his head in his hands then and tried to think of some way out of this mess he had found himself in. Despite everything he had done he did not want to kill his brother. He would happily stand by and let him die but he did not think he would be able to deal the blow himself. He didn't know if that made him honourable or just plain craven. Either way he couldn't do it, but he wished that someone else would. He heard light footsteps behind him then and he turned sharply to see Euron's whore coming towards him and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"What do you want?" he asked her.

"A moment to myself," she answered.

"I thought you were permanently stuck to my brother," he said gruffly.

"I do as he bids me so none of the others touch me. Better him than being forced by all them others," she said then and he felt sorry for her despite himself.

"There was me thinking you enjoyed it," he said.

"I suppose I did at first," she said, staring out across the water; "I thought it might be an adventure, I thought he might come to love me … truth is I'm not sure men like him can love"

"Men like him?" he questioned her and she turned her head to meet his eyes.

"He's mad isn't he?" she almost whispered, "Even I know there's no taking the Rock"

"Not just a pretty face," he said, considering her for a long moment, his mind working furiously.

"You thinking up some scheme to stop him my Lord?" she asked him quietly as he stood up to face her, advancing on her and causing her to back into the wall of the shack.

"Might be I am," he breathed, his hands coming to her shoulders and pressing her against the wall.

"If he sees …" she whispered as he leaned in closer to her.

"He's in his cups," he whispered back, his lips a fraction from hers.

"I never wanted to be no whore," she told him and he could feel her shaking.

"How about a Lady?" he asked her.

"Lady?" she repeated.

"Getting rid of him would benefit us both," he said, his finger coming to lightly stroke down her cheek; "think about it …"

"You asking me to kill him?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"I'm asking you to do as you see fit," he said, "you can keep to being his whore, let him use up all the goodness in you until he grows bored and tosses you to the others … or, you can get out now before his seed takes root in you and be named Lady Greyjoy"

"Your wife?" she asked him incredulously.

"He's all that's standing in our way Helena," he persuaded.

"Why?" she asked, "I don't understand"

"You don't have to understand, you just have to agree," he told her, pressing his body closer to hers.

"When?" she breathed against his lips.

"Before we leave this Gods forsaken island," he replied and she nodded her head slowly.

At her movement he pressed his lips to hers, feeling her uncompliant for a moment before she loosened up and moved her lips with his. She was pretty enough. Iron Islanders didn't much care for noble blood, so long as she bore heirs for the place no one would care. Victarion wanted to laugh when he thought about how easy it was. He could stop Euron's madness and repay him for what he had done to him all those years ago in one move. Helena would kill him and then he would take her as the ultimate prize of victory. The ultimate stab in the back. Euron would do it to him without hesitation but for once Victarion was dead set on getting in there first. He rubbed himself up against her then and her hands clenched firmly around his upper arms. In the next moment he pulled her away from the wall and dragged her into the run down fisherman's shack. He sincerely hoped Euron was enjoying his wine, because Victarion had every intention of enjoying his woman over and over.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

It was the dead of night when Robb and his men rode into the courtyard. Ser Rodrik had come out to greet them and their horses were taken in by the stable boys who had been quickly roused. Robb stayed to converse with whom he needed to as quickly as he could before he made his way into the keep. It was eerily silent as he walked through the familiar hallways, his steps barely making a sound as he made his way towards his chambers where he assumed Dany would be sleeping. When he reached the door he hesitated for a moment, almost afraid to go in there, afraid of how changed she would be. He pulled himself together in the next moment though and carefully let himself in as quietly as he could manage. As he clicked the door shut behind him he heard a stirring from the bed and he moved his eyes towards it to see her shifting about in her sleep. She rolled onto her back with a huff and he smiled to himself as he approached slowly.

The blankets were all tangled up around her, her arms thrown up about her head. His eyes lingered on her peacefully sleeping face for a moment before he moved them down to settle on the roundness of her stomach. His smile widened then, scarcely able to believe how much she had changed. He carefully unlaced his doublet then and slipped out of it before bending to tug off his boots. When he had moved them to the side he lifted his shirt up and over his head before walking carefully round to the other side of the bed and slipping in next to her. She stirred slightly then as he moved himself closer to her, letting his torso press up against her side as his hand sought out the roundness of her stomach. Her head turned towards him then and her brow furrowed, her lips parting to mumble something nonsensical and he leant in closer to her and pressed his lips firmly to her creased forehead. "Robb?" she mumbled sleepily then and he smiled against her skin, Gods he had missed her just simply saying his name in that sweet voice of hers. "I'm here," he breathed against her before he pulled back slightly, just in time to see her opening her eyes. "I thought I was dreaming," she whispered then and his smile widened as she blinked slowly at him through the darkness. "Was it a good dream?" he whispered back to her and her own lips quirked up into a smile.

"I was in your arms," she said, shifting herself so she was laying on her side facing him, "perhaps you can imagine the rest," she continued, her hand coming up to cup around his cheek. He exhaled deeply at her touch and turned his head to kiss at her palm for a long moment. "Are you alright?" he breathed, "Really?" he added, knowing she would more than likely want to pretend that nothing had happened to her whilst he was gone. "I was scared," she told him, meeting his eyes, "but I was determined no man would touch me because I'm yours. I remembered what Theon told me about defending myself," she continued with a small smile, "that made him angry but then Viserion stepped in … that's all Robb really. I had some bruises on my ribs for a while and a lump on my head but it was nothing compared to what happened to some of the others. I am fine and our baby is fine, we're the lucky ones."

"I love you," he breathed then, his hand coming up to stroke through her hair.

"I love you," she returned, "I've missed you so much"

"I've missed you," he said, his hand coming to rest on her stomach again; "Gods I've missed you," he leaned in closer, coming to capture her lips.

She moved her lips with his, encouraging him to deepen it after a moment, her hands coming to his bare chest and wandering his warm skin. Gods he had missed the taste of her, the feel of her all warm and soft in his arms. She was so different but very much the same all at the same time and he wanted her so badly he could barely stand it. As though she had read his mind her hands came to his chest and pushed against him, encouraging him to roll onto his back. She followed his progress, shifting herself so she could pull her body astride him, her lips not moving from his as she did so. He groaned into her mouth then as her hands travelled down his stomach to find the laces of his breeches and he allowed his own hands to find the hem of her nightdress and tug it upwards. She swiftly unlaced him then as he pushed her nightdress up over her hips, his hands finding her bare skin and encouraging her to shift herself down onto his uncovered length.

Dany was more than eager to do as Robb wanted, moving so he could slide slowly inside her, a hum of pleasure moving from her own mouth into his as he filled her completely. Regretfully she broke their kiss then and straightened herself up so she could begin rocking her hips into him. His own rose up beneath her and caused her to gasp out in pleasure as he touched so deeply inside her, the feeling of being as one with him again so intoxicating. As ever they moved in perfect harmony, their bodies in a state of near bliss as the pleasure began to build up deliciously. Robb's hands moved up and down her thighs as they continued on, her own hands coming to press into his chest as she braced herself against him and rocked her hips ever so slightly faster. A loud groan of pleasure left his own mouth then and she revelled in the sound of it, remembering just how much she enjoyed bringing him to his height like this. Her own breaths were coming sharply now as his chest rose and fell quickly under her touch and she could feel all the knots in her stomach tightening to the extreme.

Robb willed himself to hold on as she began to tighten even more around him, her end as ever was likely to finish him but he wouldn't have it any other way. She moaned out his name then, her nails pinching into the skin of his chest and he knew that she was spent. In the next instant his own body peaked and he couldn't help but growl out her name as he came to his end deep inside her. Her breathing was ragged as she stilled above him but she made no move to come from his lap and he was glad of it, keeping his hands resting lightly on her thighs as he tried to get his own breathing under control. After another few moments she finally moved away from him, separating them again as she came to lie down at his side. He remained on his back as she pressed herself against him, one of his arms coming about her, his hand lying flat on the small of her back. The other he moved back to her stomach again as Dany nuzzled down against his neck, feeling her warm breath on his skin. He jumped slightly in the next moment as he felt something nudge his palm. "You felt that didn't you?" Dany said in an amused tone and he could only nod in amazement.

"When you said I could feel it I didn't know what to expect," he replied after a moment.

"Our baby's strong," she told him then, pride dripping from her every word.

"Just like his mother," he smiled and she tilted her head up to return the gesture.

"No doubt he will be handsome just like his papa," she smiled widely.

"And clever like his mother," he added.

"He's going to be a perfect little Stark, just you wait and see," she said certainly, "you're going to be so proud of him"

"I already am," he breathed, shifting himself slightly so he could press his lips to hers again.

"Promise we will never be parted again," she said when he finally pulled away.

"I promise," he swore to her, looking her dead in the eye.

* * *

Robb had a wide grin on his face as he stepped out of the keep the next morning, a definite spring in his step as he descended the steps. He was home. By the Gods he was home and he could not be happier. He knew there were people here suffering and he was almost ashamed at the fact that he could not stop smiling but he couldn't help himself. Truly he felt blessed, and he knew damn well that he was a lucky man. Perhaps the luckiest man in Westeros, he certainly felt like it. His eye was caught by the man he had come out to look for then and he let out a burst of surprised laughter despite himself. Theon Greyjoy with a baby. He never thought he would see the day. His friend noticed him then and a wide grin split his own face as they at once made their way towards one another. Robb embraced him as best he could without crushing the little bundle before pulling back and appraising him. He had a tired look in his eyes and his face looked a little more worn that it had before but he was still Theon. Thank the Gods.

"When did you get back?" Theon asked him then.

"Last night," Robb replied, "How are you?"

"Getting there," Theon said and he nodded in reply.

"I bet he helps," Robb said, looking towards the baby.

"Every second," Theon nodded his agreement, "without him and Adele I think I would have given up"

"I'm sorry about your sister," he said sincerely then and he saw the look of pain cross his features.

"Thank you," Theon said after a moment, rocking his son slightly as he began to grumble.

"How is it?" Robb asked him.

"Wonderful," a childlike grin spread across his face; "exhausting but wonderful, you will find out for yourself soon enough"

"Aye," Robb agreed, "I can scarce believe it … it has gone so quickly"

"You don't need to tell me that," Theon said slightly regretfully.

"I didn't mean …" Robb started.

"No," he shook his head, "no, I know you didn't … do you want to hold him?"

"Aye go on," Robb smiled, "I suppose I could use the practice"

Theon merely chuckled slightly then and shifted Darion in his arms, handing him carefully over to Robb who held him tightly and rocked him slightly to settle him. Robb looked down at the baby who looked just like Theon and wondered if his own baby would favour him in such a way. There was much strong blood that could manifest itself in his child; Stark, Tully and Targaryen. Perhaps a mix of all three. He found that hard to imagine as he smiled down on the tiny boy in his arms. In that moment he truly could not wait to have hold his own child like this and be overwhelmed with love for it. "He's amazing Theon, you must be so proud," he said meaningfully then.

"I am," his friend confirmed; "I could never imagine it before but … truly, finding Adele and having him is the best thing that's ever happened to me"

"Who are you and what have you done with my husband?" Adele's teasing tone came up behind Theon then and he turned and smiled at her.

"You know you're everything to me," Theon said, turning to peck her lips.

"Don't listen," Robb advised the baby in his arms, "it will make you sick"

"As though you and Dany are any less sickening?" Theon asked with a raised brow and Robb grinned.

"You may have a point," he conceded as Darion began to grumble insistently.

"He'll just be hungry," Adele said, seeing the look of panic in Robb's eyes.

"Of course," Robb agreed as she came towards him and shifted her son into her own arms.

"I'd best take him home," she said.

"I'll come with you," Theon said.

"You and Dany ought to come and have dinner with us one night," Adele addressed Robb then, "we can all catch up properly"

"Good idea," Robb smiled.

"That's settled then," she smiled back.

"It's good to have to back Robb," Theon said then as Adele turned to leave.

"You as well," Robb smiled, "if the Gods are good we will both be allowed to stay back."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed that guys! More soon!

:)


	63. Confrontations

**A/N: **New chapter everyone! Hope you enjoy it!

:)

* * *

**Confrontations**

* * *

_Fair Isle_

* * *

Victarion stared into the fire and tapped his foot up and down nervously as the others around him grew steadily louder with their drink and their women. After another few moments he chanced a glance towards Euron who was draining yet another bottle of wine. His brother was making this far too easy. He let his eyes slide to Helena then who was lounging next to Euron, her own cup of wine still full to the brim. She met his eyes in the next instant and he nodded his head a fraction before he moved his eyes back to the fire. He glanced towards them again after a moment and saw Helena sliding her hand down under Euron's breeches as she moved her lips to his ear. No doubt she was persuading him in her own special way to retire to his tent. Victarion had to admire his brother's choice of woman, she was a wild thing beneath the sheets. He had made sure to procure her a healthy dose of moon tea from the Maester in the town on the island. He would watch her drink it himself, there was no way he would allow her to even possibly conceive his brother's child. The last thing he needed was a repeat of his last marriage. He shuddered slightly then, his eyes darting between them and the fire as they rose up.

Helena had taken Euron's hand and was leading him towards the largest tent where they resided at night. They were set to sail in the morning but if all went to plan Euron would never be leaving that tent again. He watched how unsteady his brother was on his feet then and imagined Helena would have an easy time of it. Gods, he hoped she wouldn't back out of it. She had seemed determined when he had seen her earlier in the day and he had been reassured by the certainty in her eyes. They were disappearing into the tent now and he took a deep breath before reaching for his own bottle of wine and taking a long draught from it.

He counted the minutes in his head then, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the tent. A while later he could hear her moans coming from the tent and he tried not to think about exactly what was going on in there. It was dawning on him now that he would have to deal with the fact that she had repeatedly fucked his brother for the rest of his days. Perhaps the image of her killing him would be able to erase the rest of it. He took another deep breath then and another long drink of wine as the moans ceased to come from the tent. He waited then. Waited for the sign, his eyes not moving away from the tent.

* * *

Helena watched him as he fell asleep, counting her heartbeats as snores began to come from his mouth. This was it. Now. She had to do it now. Slowly she inched towards the bed, slowly easing one of the pillows from under his head. He stirred slightly and she froze but thankfully he didn't open his eyes. She took a long, slow breath and counted her heart beats to a hundred before she slowly moved the pillow down towards his face. As she pressed it down over him his arms flailed but she knelt down on the side of the bed and pushed down with all her strength. He tried to pull her away from him but she held firm and he wasn't strong enough what with the wine he had consumed. His body tried to twist and turn but she determined not to release the pressure and eventually his movements came slower and his attempts to push her away became more and more feeble. Eventually she stilled completely but still she didn't move away, afraid that he was only pretending and that if she pulled away too soon he would wake up and throttle her. After another hundred beats of her heart she released the pressure slightly, slowly pulling the pillow away from his face. His uncovered eye was staring up blankly at her and she breathed a sigh of relief, her body finally relaxing.

She stared down at him for several minutes, just watching for any sign that he might suddenly twitch to life. He didn't move a single muscle and eventually she decided it was safe to move away from the bed, backing away slowly for him. Still he didn't move and she took deep breaths, finally looking away from him and moving towards the flap of the tent. As she stuck her hand out she looked back towards him, her heart still pounding in her chest. After a few seconds she pulled her hand back in and waited, moving herself as far away from Euron's lifeless body as she could. After another few minutes the flap of the tent wrenched back and Victarion stamped in. He looked from her to Euron before crossing over to the bed and pressing his fingers to his neck. Helena watched him fearfully, her eyes widening expectantly when he turned to look at her.

"He's dead," he said after a moment.

"You're sure?" she asked him quietly.

"I'm sure," he nodded, coming closer to her.

"What now?" she asked, her eyes darting about the place.

"We wait until morning," he told her, "make out he died in his sleep – too much wine, could be that he choked to death"

"Will they believe that?" she questioned him, her body shaking slightly.

"They will believe whatever I tell them, I promise you that," he assured her and she nodded.

"And then, where will we go?" she asked.

"The mainland," he said with a slight grimace, "if we are ever going to be left in peace then I need to bend the knee"

"What you said …" she tailed off, meeting his eyes.

"I'm no liar," he told her firmly, "I will take you as my wife as I promised"

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I have moon tea for you, you will need to take it on the morrow," he said then and she nodded.

"Gladly," she said, "the last thing I want is his seed taking root inside of me."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne was trembling as she clung tightly to Willas' hand as they descended the steps down to the prison. He had tried to talk her out of this but she had to see her, she had to look the woman who had torn her baby from her in the eye and ask her why. Willas had given her an explanation but Erinne wanted to hear it from the woman herself. "Erinne?" he murmured at her side then and she started, she hadn't even realised she had come to a complete standstill at the bottom of the steps. "Sorry," she whispered, shaking her head slightly and he squeezed her hand slightly. "You've nothing to be sorry for," he said, "you don't have to do this you know." She shook her head in response, trying her best to smile up at him. "I need to," she said, "I can't … I can't stop thinking about it. If I am ever going to move on from what happened then I just need to … I don't know … I just need to hear it from her own mouth."

"Alright," he said softly, "but if it all gets too much for you then you just have to say so and we will leave right away"

"I know," she nodded, "but I'm alright I promise you, I can do this"

"I'm proud of you," he murmured then, placing his hands on her shoulders for a moment before he pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When he pulled away she met his eyes for a moment before she nodded her head at his silent question. He moved away then and she followed on after him as he moved down towards the cell his grandmother was being kept in. In Erinne's opinion she was in luxury, housed in chambers that were set aside for the most noble of prisoners. She knew it was because the King was showing mercy because of her advanced age but part of her really wanted to see her languishing in the deepest dankest cell of all. Willas handed the King's written permission over to one of the guards then and he read it through before bowing shortly to them and moving to unlock the door. Erinne took a deep breath as he drew back the bolts and turned the key in the lock. "Knock three times when you're ready to leave," he instructed them as he turned the handle and Willas nodded his agreement before leading his way into the room.

"I wasn't expecting you," Olenna spoke then and Erinne swallowed hard.

"I have no desire to see you," Willas said darkly, "I'm escorting Erinne"

"Erinne?" she repeated, her eyes now darting behind Willas and settling on her.

"Tell me why," Erinne said, meeting the old woman's eyes.

"It was nothing personal," Olenna said, gesturing for them to sit down.

"You killed my baby of course it was personal," Erinne snarled, remaining on her feet.

"I did what I had to do, I would have done the same regardless of who you were," she said.

"I told you there was no point, there is no remorse in her," Willas murmured to her then.

"You are hardly innocent yourself my dear; standing there in black mourning your husband when you were betraying him at every opportunity with my grandson," Olenna shook her head.

"You know nothing about me, nor my marriage," Erinne snapped; "I may not be innocent but I did not deserve what you did to me!"

"As I said, it was nothing personal," she said, shaking her head slightly.

"Would you have done it again? Had I fallen pregnant again would you have done it again? How many times would you have done it?!" Erinne demanded.

"You ought to have told me the truth Willas," Olenna looked towards him then, something akin to sadness in her eyes that was quickly hidden.

"Can you not show one ounce of remorse?" he asked her.

"I'm sorry it was your child that was lost," she said, "but I will not apologise for protecting my family"

"You disgust me," Erinne whispered, "I hope you rot in here, alone … no one will come to you in your final hours I can promise you that my Lady. I shall not wear black and mourn when you pass over into the fires of the seven hells."

"Do you have a message for Stannis? I'd be happy to pass it on," Olenna said drily, meeting her eyes.

"You poisonous bitch," Erinne shook her head, marching towards the door.

"You really want to throw away every ounce of pride and dignity you have by marrying that woman?!" Olenna demanded, her eyes fixed on Willas as Erinne pounded the door three times.

"You have no right to cast judgement on anything I do anymore," he told her calmly.

"Don't be a fool Willas!" she implored him.

"You're the fool," he said as the door was wrenched open; "Erinne was right, no one will wear black and mourn for you … enjoy your remaining years grandmother."

* * *

Aegon breathed out a long sigh of satisfaction as he read down page after page of the papers that Varys had brought to him. Each contained yet more evidence of Littlefinger's years of corruption, plotting and his vulgar treatment of women. Several witnesses had come forward and offered their testimonies and each one was more damning that the last. Not even Littlefinger would be able to worm his way out of this one and Aegon smiled slightly to himself. It had taken weeks to gather all of this in secret and he had been worried that Littlefinger may have requested to go back to the Vale. Thankfully he seemed to have no desire whatsoever to return to his wife and her son and so he had stayed at the Capitol and tried to worm his way back into the council. Aegon had kept him at arm's length, telling him that he would not be making a final decision about his council until after the Coronation. It wasn't a complete lie, that was when he would officially name them but he already knew exactly who he wanted around him. He nodded slightly to himself then as he turned over yet another page, his eyes widening as he read the testimony of a former Gold Cloak.

"Is this true?" he asked incredulously.

"Is what true your Grace?" Varys asked him, coming closer and peering over his shoulder.

"He paid the Gold Cloaks to kill Lord Stark? They were told to murder him if they caught up to him and tell the Queen they had had no choice?" he shook his head.

"I wouldn't be surprised your Grace," Varys sighed heavily.

"By the Gods," Aegon breathed, "why?"

"If I had to guess I would draw your attention to where Littlefinger was fostered as a child," Varys said.

"Where?" Aegon asked.

"Riverrun," Varys replied.

"He grew up with the Tully's then?" he frowned.

"More specifically with the Tully girls," Varys told him; "and when Catelyn Tully was betrothed to Brandon Stark he challenged him to a duel for her hand"

"What?" Aegon turned sharply to look at him.

"A rather foolish decision given Brandon's skill, Stark would have killed him had Catelyn not stepped in and begged for his life to be spared," Varys continued.

"You think she loved him?" he asked.

"As a brother I believe yes, but Littlefinger was never content with that. He was fond of boasting at court that he took the honour of both Tully girls," Varys told him.

"Surely not …" Aegon shook his head.

"Perhaps he had one," Varys smiled slightly, "but not the one he wanted"

"The one he wanted was Lady Catelyn?" Aegon raised his brows.

"Now do you see why he might have wanted to dispatch with our Lord Stark?" he raised his brows.

"I do," Aegon nodded, "which is why I think our Lord Stark should have the pleasure of taking him into custody himself."

* * *

Ned kept his face set in a grim expression as he walked down the hallways, the clank of the guards behind him. What he wanted to do was grin from ear to ear but he didn't want to appear too pleased about what he was on his way to do. He was pleased though. Pleased for Jeyne and the Gods knew how many other girls. Pleased for himself even. He would love to have said he was surprised by what had been found out about Littlefinger but in all honesty it had barely made him raise a brow. He had known since first coming as Robert's Hand that there was something he didn't like about the man. Now Aegon had the truth of it, courtesy of Varys and dozens of others. The evidence and testimonies were damning, there was no way Littlefinger would be able to talk his way out of this one. Ned wondered what Catelyn's reaction would be. He had declined to tell her about Jeyne's ordeal in any of his letters, it was hard for him to even think about, let alone write down. When she reached the Capitol he would have no choice but to tell her and he was certain that she would be on his side in this, no matter the connection between her and Littlefinger. Ned doubted she would even recognise the boy she had grown up with and loved as a brother. Doubtless she would be disgusted. They all were.

He came to a halt in front of Littlefinger's chambers then and he stepped aside, nodding for the guards to enter before him. They did as he bid, barging in almost all at once. Ned could hear Littlefinger's demands to know what was going on, his protestations. He could protest all he wanted, soon his head would be on a spike and he would protest no more. Ned made his own appearance then and let a small smile grace his lips as the restrained man showed a flicker of fear.

"You're under arrest," Ned stated.

"On what charge?" Littlefinger asked as he was clad in irons.

"Conspiracy to murder, abduction, rape, exploitation and slander," Ned told him, "take your pick"

"Are you enjoying this Stark?" he asked him mockingly.

"I won't be sorry to see you swing if that's what you're asking me," Ned said.

"Send Cat my regards," Littlefinger smirked.

"You'll swing for your lies about her," he narrowed his eyes.

"Lies?" Littlefinger raised his brows, "I think not"

"You'll not poison me against my own wife. I am hers and she is mine, just like we promised one another. Did you hope you could win her after Brandon was murdered? You were never good enough for her, nor Lysa … I pity the woman for falling for a snake like you," Ned said calmly.

"Your words cannot hurt me, I know what Cat and I shared was real, I know I was the first man to claim her and you can never change that," he replied.

"You're deluded," Ned shook his head incredulously, "enjoy your fantasies, they are the only thing you will have to entertain yourself with." He jerked his head towards the door then and addressed the guards who had apprehended him; "take him away."

* * *

Aegon knocked again. He had been at it for at least an hour and he refused to believe that she wasn't in there. She was in there alright, she was just ignoring him. Sansa would be here in a matter of days and he wanted this sorted before she arrived. Val couldn't ignore him forever, he refused to let her. He refused to let this messed up, near impossible situation beat him. Beat them. He damn well refused. He and Val needed to put aside all their residual feelings and just focus on the fact that in a few short months they would be parents. "Please Val!" he shouted through the door then. "You can't ignore me forever, please just open the door!" He pressed his ear back against the door then but still he could hear nothing on the other side and so he pounded his fist repeatedly against the door again. Still there was no answer from within and he sighed heavily, placing his back against the door and sliding down to the floor. "I'm not going anywhere," he said then, leaning his head back against the wood and sighing heavily; "I'll stay here all night if I have to."

"What do you want Aegon?" her voice came from the other side of the door a few minutes later.

"I want to know you're alright," he said.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"Can I see that for myself?" he asked her then.

"No," she said.

"Val …" he started.

"No," she repeated, "is she here yet?"

"If you mean Sansa, then no," he sighed heavily, "please let me in"

"No," she said again.

"Why not?" he asked her.

"Because I can't," she said, "we need to get used to this, to being without one another"

"We will always be in one another's lives Val, we will share a child soon!" he retorted.

"And how do you think Sansa would like you making nightly visits to me?" she asked sarcastically.

"I wouldn't have to pay night time visits to you if you would see me during the day," he shot back.

"I can't," she said quietly.

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because I can't trust myself with you! I never could, that is what got us into this mess in the first place!" she snapped at him.

"Val can we not just try and be friends? For the sake of the baby?" he pleaded with her.

"Because it will never be enough for me," she confessed.

"Val …" he began, not even knowing what he was going to say to her.

"You told me you loved me," she said, "I never said it back"

"Don't," he said in an agonised tone.

"I should have done," she said, "I know it's wrong but I …"

"Val don't," he warned her.

"I love you," she said and he closed his eyes in despair, "that's why I can't let you in … I can't see you Aegon, not now … not when I'm so close to losing you forever"

"We will always be a part of one another's lives," he told her softly then.

"I won't stop you seeing the baby," she replied, "but you will see it without me"

"Is that fair? Do you want our child to think we despise one another?" he asked her.

"I don't know!" she snapped, "I don't know anything, this is too hard Aegon! I can't cope … not now … not with everything that's happening"

"Please let me in, just for a moment please Val!" he implored her.

"I can't," she said and he heard he choke on a sob, "if I let you in I will never let you leave again … I have to let you go Aegon, this is the only way. I'm sorry … please, please just go …"

He took a great shuddering breath then, tears stinging his eyes as he bashed his head back against the door a few times before he hauled himself back onto his feet. He turned to stare at the door then, part of him wanting to break it down, to force her to see him. They couldn't bury this, they needed to confront it for their own sakes as much as their child's. He resisted though, somehow, instead placing his hands on the door and leaning his forehead lightly against the wood. "I'm going," he murmured after a moment, hearing her stifled sobs again and closing his own eyes tightly to stop the tears spilling out of him. "I'm going," he repeated before pushing away from the door and walking heavily away from her chambers.

"Aegon!" Jon's voice came behind him then and he took a deep breath and forced a smile to his face before he turned to face his brother.

"Jon," he greeted and his brother frowned slightly, no doubt his smile was fooling no one.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked him concernedly.

"I'm exhausted," Aegon said, it was partly true at least, "a good night's sleep is long overdue"

"Aye," Jon agreed, still frowning, "if you're sure that's all it is …"

"I'm alright," he nodded, bringing another smile to his face, "and you? Did you need something?"

"Your permission for something," Jon said and it was Aegon's turn to frown.

"My permission? For what?" he asked.

"I got a note from Margaery," Jon said, "they are staying tonight in Stokeworth before making their way here on the morrow"

"I see …" Aegon nodded slowly, wondering exactly why Jon was telling him this.

"I want to marry her," he said, "and I want to do it before she comes here to her family again"

"Why?" Aegon frowned.

"Because they won't want me for her," Jon said, "no matter what name you've given me I will still be a bastard in their eyes. Don't argue!" he continued as Aegon showed every intention of wanting to interrupt; "If I marry her before she reaches the Capitol there is nothing to be done about it. If I don't they will whisk her away and match her elsewhere before I have the chance."

"You think I will let that happen?" Aegon asked him.

"I don't want a fuss Aegon," Jon said, "the pomp and ceremony and celebration is for you and Sansa … I just want her, I don't need anything else"

"You're sure?" Aegon asked him, meeting his eyes.

"I'd never be allowed to wear black if I got married here," Jon smiled and Aegon snorted out a laugh.

"Very well," he chuckled, "go on then, the Gods know you waited long enough to get your girl."

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down. Hope you enjoyed it. More soon! :)


	64. Future and Forever

**A/N: **New chapter for you all my dearest readers!

Hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

**Future and Forever**

* * *

_Stokeworth_

* * *

Margaery looked up from fixing her hair as a sharp knock came at her door. She frowned slightly, it was only just dawn and they were in no particular hurry to leave this morning since the Capitol was so close now. Steffon made an inquisitive noise from where he was sat up in his cradle and she sent a smile his way before she crossed to open the door. She blinked stupidly when she saw him on the other side, almost certain that she was imagining him. "Jon?" she whispered and he smiled widely at her, her own lips twitching upwards to return the gesture. In the next instant she was in his arms and she clung tightly to him, breathing in the familiar scent of him, finally believing that he was real under her touch. "Gods, I can't believe you're really here," she breathed out against his chest then and he seemed to pull her even closer into his embrace at her words. "I'm here," he confirmed, "I didn't want to wait another moment for you … Aegon gave me leave to come. I … I just couldn't take the risk of losing you …"

"Losing me?" she repeated, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes.

"I'm hardly the match your family would want for you," he smiled slightly and she frowned.

"They don't get to decide anything for me anymore," she told him firmly.

"Even so," he breathed, "I don't want to go back there until you're my wife"

"Wife?" she smiled up at him, her heart pounding.

"Yes wife," he grinned back at her, "if you'll have me"

"Of course I will," she almost laughed and his grin widened.

"There's a small Sept in the town," he told her.

"What about Steffon?" she asked him.

"Sansa and Lady Stark have offered to take him for a few hours," he replied.

"You seem to have an answer for everything," she smiled.

"I've had a long time to think about this," he told her seriously.

"So have I," she whispered, stroking her hand down his rough cheek.

"I love you," he whispered back, moving his forehead down to rest against hers.

"I love you too," she told him softly as he shifted his nose to rub against hers.

His lips were coming closer then and she almost held her breath in anticipation. For months she had imagined this moment, lived with the regret that she had not plucked up the courage to kiss him before he had left Winterfell all that time ago. Deep down inside her though she had known that if she had pressed her lips to his that he would consume her, that she would surrender it all to him. She would never have regretted it but she knew that it would have tormented him and so she had refused to give in. Now he was standing here asking her to marry him and she could resist no longer. Their lips were a breath away now and her stomach clenched in knots.

Steffon let out a loud screech then and Jon pulled back from her, an irritated sigh leaving her lips. Jon was looking passed her and into the room then and she saw his eyes light up when they fixed on her son. It made her heart soar, knowing that Jon wasn't just here for her. He was here for Steffon as well and that meant more to her than she thought she could ever explain to him. Jon gently pushed her away from him then and stepped passed her into the room. He walked towards the cradle and Margaery's heart thought it would burst with happiness as she watched Steffon's face break into a wide grin, his little arms raising up insistently to Jon. Tears stung her eyes as she watched Jon bend down to pick him up, cradling him close to his chest as Steffon let out a stream of happy, nonsensical exclamations.

"I told you he wouldn't forget you," she told him when she felt she had her emotions in check.

"He's grown so much," Jon said in wonderment.

"That's because he is a greedy little thing," she said and he chuckled.

"I've missed both of you so much," he told her then before pressing a kiss to the top of Steffon's head.

"We've missed you," she nodded.

"I know I'll never be his father, but …" he started.

"I will never hide the truth from him," she interrupted, "but you will be the best father-figure he could ever hope to have Jon"

"I only hope I don't disappoint either of you," he smiled slightly.

"As if you ever could?" she shook her head disbelievingly.

"I think it high time we took him to Lady Stark," Jon said then and she nodded her agreement, a wide smile creeping onto her face.

* * *

Jon took a deep breath as the elderly Septon wound the ribbon shakily around his and Margaery's entwined hands. She turned her head towards him then and smiled widely at him and his own lips turned up in response. Part of him couldn't quite believe that this was happening and he swallowed hard as the Septon stepped backwards and smiled kindly between them. "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words," he said in a quavering voice and Jon took a deep breath before he turned to meet her dark pools.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," Jon said softly as Margaery uttered her own words in perfect harmony with him; "Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days." Jon glanced back towards the Septon for a second then and the old man nodded slightly to him. At the action Jon turned back to Margaery and slowly leant in to capture her lips with his own. They moved them slowly and softly with one another's and Jon felt like his whole body was tingling in anticipation as he tasted her sweetness on his lips. They pulled back as one after a moment and smiled widely at one another. Jon met her eyes then and knew simply from the look in them that she was as eager as he was for them to head back up to her room and truly begin their marriage.

He glanced towards the Septon then murmured his thanks before he laced his fingers with Margaery's and tugged her towards the door. Once they were outside he pulled her into his arms and captured her lips again, kissing her slowly and deeply, feeling desire swell him almost immediately. He felt her hum of pleasure in his mouth and his hands clenched slightly harder into her hips. She pulled her lips away from his, her eyes darker than he had ever seen them as she met his own. "I think we ought to go back to the inn," she whispered then and he nodded his agreement, his breathing coming more raggedly than before. She smiled up at him then and grabbed his hand, leading the way back towards the inn, slipping through the door and practically running up the stairs. Jon nipped at her waist as they made their way down the hallway towards her room and she giggled, quickening her pace as they were almost at her door. Her hand came to the latch then and she pushed open the door, Jon followed after her slamming it shut before his hands came to unthread the lacings of his doublet.

She turned to face him, her lips quirking up again as he shrugged his doublet off his shoulders, his eyes fixed on her as she came to untie the laces of her dress. Jon swallowed hard as she let it fall to the floor, his hands pulling his shirt free from his breeches and tugging it up over his head. When he looked back at her she was slipping her shift from her shoulders and he couldn't take his eyes from her as she was suddenly stood there bare in front of him. She backed slowly towards the bed then and somehow he managed to tear his gaze from her so he could bend down and unlace his boots. He tugged them off and straightened up to look at her again. Her lips quirked up on one side then as she lowered herself to sit down on the edge of the bed. He approached her slowly, unthreading the laces of his breeches as he went. She licked her lips in anticipation, her hands coming to rest on his hips as he came to a stop just in front of her. She hooked her fingers around the tops of his breeches, her eyes slowly lifting to meet his as he looked down on her. He swallowed hard as she tugged them down his hips before encouraging him to step even closer towards her.

Margaery took a deep breath then before she shifted closer, her lips coming to his length. He inhaled sharply as she allowed her tongue to glide down the length of him. She took him slowly into her mouth, his hand stroking through her hair before it tightened at the base of her neck. He encouraged her movement as she slowly moved her head back and forth. Jon let his head tilt backwards, a groan escaping his mouth before he could help himself. Gods it felt so good what she was doing to him. She was making his head spin and he closed his eyes in satisfaction, another groan leaving his mouth before he could help it. He could feel his release coming then and he opened his mouth to warn her. "Margaery …" he managed to get out, "Margaery … I …" It was too late, he had peaked before he managed to get the words out, spilling himself into her mouth. She pulled back then, looking up to meet his eyes again as she swallowed him down before she slowly licked her lips.

He let his hands drop to hook under her thighs then, pulling them up around his waist before he swivelled her body around on the bed, shifting his own down to nestle between her legs. She wrapped her legs even higher around his waist and he slowly lowered his torso closer to her own, his head bending down to press kisses across her breasts. Margaery arched her back up into him as his teeth teased around one of her buds. A moan escaped her and the sound of it made him harden again at once. He gripped her thighs tightly before he let one of his hands wander up between her legs. Her back arched even further into him as he let his lips trail up from her breasts and pepper their way up to her neck. He kissed and grazed at her neck as his fingers slid between her legs, feeling her gloriously warm and wet for him. He groaned out against her skin as she gasped out, a moan leaving her lips as he continued to glide his fingers against her warmth. "Jon," she panted into his ear; "Jon … please, I … I … need you … Jon …"

He couldn't deny her. He couldn't deny himself. In an instant he had moved his hand back to clench around her thigh, shifting his body so he could slide his length into her. Gods she was perfect. Her hands clenched around his shoulders as he began to slowly thrust into her, her hips rising up to meet his. Soft moans were leaving her mouth on every breath now as he moved so deliciously and she let her hands wander down the planes of his back as he continued to rock pleasure through every pore of her body. She had never felt anything so intensely in her entire life. Never felt so whole. So complete. Jon was made for her and she was made for him, she was certain of that. Each perfect thrust of their hips made her even more certain. She let her fingernails rake up his back and he growled out against her neck at the sting of it. Her hands came to clench in his hair and he could feel her warmth closing in around him, knowing from the sharp cries and moans in his ear that she was coming close to her own release. He pushed her thighs up slightly higher on his waist and she cried out loudly on his next thrust, her back aching up and then falling limply down against the bed as his own release spilled from him in the next instant.

Jon let his spent body collapse down against hers, feeling her hand stroking through the hair at the nape of his neck as they both breathed hard against one another. After several minutes he finally raised his head to look at her, a smile gracing her lips at his movement. "Are you alright?" he breathed and her smile only widened in response. "Do you really need me to answer that?" she asked, raising her brows at him. "I suppose not," he grinned and she giggled slightly, letting her hand come from his hair and stroke down his cheek. "I love you," she breathed out in utter satisfaction, rubbing her thumb lightly against his cheek as she cupped it in her hand. "I love you," he returned after a moment, meeting her eyes for the longest time. "I know we have to go back to the Capitol, but I wish we could just go right to Storm's End and damn the consequences," she sighed.

"Are you worried about seeing your family again?" he asked her.

"Not Loras," she shook her head slowly, "but the rest of them …"

"You don't need to worry about your grandmother," he said then and she smiled slightly sadly.

"I still can't believe what she did," she shook her head, "or rather I can … all too well. That poor woman, just thinking about it makes me feel sick …"

"Then don't think about it," he urged her.

"She would have done it to me given the chance," she said, meeting his eyes, "she would have forced Steffon from me if she had discovered his existence"

"But she didn't," he reminded her gently, "Steffon is safe and well, and as soon as the wedding and the Coronation are done we can take him home"

"I can't wait," she whispered.

"Neither can I," he smiled, "but right now we ought to ready ourselves to leave"

"I suppose," she said sulkily.

"Believe me I would rather stay here in bed with you," he smiled down on her and her irritation melted at once as she met his eyes.

"I never want to spend another night apart from you Jon," she said then.

"You never will," he promised, "I swear to you."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Aegon did his best to stay composed as they were announced, bringing a small smile to his lips. He knew everyone was looking his way, wanting to know exactly how he would greet his future wife and he did not want anyone to question his devotion to her. From this day on he had to make Sansa the sole object of his attentions and affections. Val had made her own position painfully clear and now he had to do the same. He would be a father to their child but she had made it all too plain that she didn't even desire his friendship. She wouldn't even let him try. He understood, of course he did, but it still hurt to think that she couldn't even bear to be in the same room as him. He shook his head slightly to clear it of thoughts of her then as the new arrivals were trickling into the throne room. Before coming before him he had allowed Sansa to have a reunion with her father first and it was his arm she was on as she walked into his presence. She was as beautiful as ever, her beauty was something that he had never been able to deny. Not only that but goodness shone from her, even after everything she had been forced to endure at such a young age. She should have been more than enough for him. He should be beside himself with happiness at the thought of making her his wife and Queen. If it weren't for Val … He stopped that train of thought before it went too far and rose up from the throne as Sansa dropped into an elegant curtsey before him.

"My Lady," he greeted her with a smile, taking the steps down to where she was stood; "I am delighted to see you have arrived safely"

"Thank you, your Grace," she smiled back at him as she straightened up; "the Gods blessed us with an uninterrupted journey"

"Then we must thank them," he said.

"Indeed," she agreed, offering him her hand as he reached out for it. He determined not to look at her father then as he pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"Would you share a drink and a light luncheon with me my Lady?" he asked her.

"I would be delighted your Grace," she said and this time he did let his eyes drift to Lord Stark, the older man nodding to him slightly.

Sansa let go of her father's arm then and took the one he was offering to her, he smiled down on her for a moment before leading her away from the watching crowds. He didn't need all eyes on them right now, it would be bad enough on their wedding day. It was only a few days away now she had arrived and he wondered if she was as terrified at the prospect as he was. Truthfully he wouldn't be surprised if she were even more so. He opened a side door off the throne room then and they walked down a few twists and turns of the hallways before he led her into a small living area where wine and some food had been laid out for them.

"This looks wonderful," she said and he smiled, moving to pour them some wine.

"Please, sit," he said and she did as she was told, nervously smoothing out her skirts.

"Thank you," she smiled as he handed her a glass of the wine.

"You're welcome," he said, "how are you feeling? About being back here I mean …"

"I don't know," she said honestly, "it all seems so familiar yet so completely altered at the same time"

"Once we're married I'd like you to see to redecorating the keep … start with our own chambers and then move on to the others," he told her.

"Of course," she nodded before taking a sip of wine.

"No expense spared Sansa I mean it, I want you to feel comfortable here … I want to feel comfortable here," he confessed and she frowned slightly.

"Do you not?" she asked him quietly.

"My mother and sister were killed here, I don't know if anything was changed afterwards or not. Either way I want it all redone again," he told her.

"It will be," she said reassuringly and he nodded his thanks before taking a sip from his own glass.

"Is there anything specific you want for the wedding or Coronation?" he asked then.

"I don't think so," she shook her head, "will they happen on the same day?"

"Yes, we'll be married in the Sept and crowned right afterwards," he replied.

"We?" she raised her brows.

"Yes, we," he confirmed, "you will be crowned alongside me"

"That's such an honour," she said in a slightly dazed manner.

"Why should you not be?" he smiled slightly and she seemed to have no answer for him.

"How is Val?" she asked tentatively.

"Ignoring me," he said slightly edgily and she averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"No I'm sorry," he sighed, "it's all such a mess … I wouldn't blame either of you for despising me"

"I don't," she said, lifting her eyes back to meet his.

"Thank you," he said meaningfully and she smiled at him in response, a knock sounding on the door before he could think of anything else to say.

"Are you expecting someone?" she asked him as he stood up to answer it.

"Someone for you, yes," he smiled and she looked towards the door curiously as he went to open it.

She gasped when she saw who was revealed, placing her glass back down on the low table before she jumped to her feet. Jeyne smiled widely at her as she crossed right to her, the two embracing one another tightly for the longest time. Sansa had the overwhelming urge to cry and she blinked rapidly, reminding herself of whose presence she was in before she released Jeyne and stepped back to appraise her. "You're alright?" she asked her questioningly; "You are alright aren't you? I couldn't believe it when my father wrote that you'd been at Casterly Rock … is it true? Did you … did you marry him?"

"I did," Jeyne confirmed and Sansa noted her smile and her relaxed stance and felt relief flood her.

"You're happy," she nodded, coming quickly to her conclusion.

"Yes I'm happy," Jeyne nodded, "I will be even happier when I have word of him"

"Would they have reached the Rock by now?" Sansa asked, her eyes flickering to Aegon.

"I am expecting word any day," he replied and she nodded slowly.

"But you will be here until he returns will you not?" her eyes went back to Jeyne's.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Then you must be one of my ladies for the wedding. No," Sansa corrected herself, "you must be my chief lady at the wedding"

"If you're sure," Jeyne's eyes were wide as Sansa beamed at her.

"I'm certain," she promised before coming forward to embrace her friend once more; "I am so happy to see you again … I cannot tell you how much."

* * *

Margaery was clinging so tightly to his hand that it was almost painful but Jon made no complaint as he led her down the hallways towards the wing her family had been housed in. He glanced back and saw her eyes were firmly fixed on Steffon who she had tightly held against her hip with her free arm. Jon wanted to say something reassuring but he wasn't sure if she would even want to hear it as they approached the right door. When he slowed his pace her hand clamped even more tightly around his and he returned the pressure slightly before he raised his hand to knock at the door. A maid answered, curtseying to him before opening the door wider and allowing him to step in. His body shielded Margaery from view as he stepped through the door, the eyes of Mace Tyrell finding him and narrowing slightly. Mace did not like him one bit, and Jon imagined he would like him even less once he tugged Margaery into the room. "I've brought someone to see you," he said then and Mace frowned even more, Loras thankfully appearing from one of the other rooms as he spoke. Jon looked back then and tugged on Margaery's hand; "come on," he urged her and she stepped round him after a moment and into view.

"Margaery!" Loras exclaimed in delight at once, coming forward to embrace her as tightly as he could as she still held Steffon. "Gods is this him?" her brother went on; "He looks just like his father … are you alright? I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you," Margaery replied rather thickly as Loras gently took hold of one of Steffon's hands and shook it lightly as though in greeting.

"Margaery," her father said then, stepping forwards and Jon saw her visibly falter.

"Father," she said after a moment, her grip on Steffon tightening.

"This is why you went?" he nodded coldly towards the baby.

"The life of my son is the reason I went," she replied just as coldly and Jon stepped closer to her.

"Where have you been all this time?" her father asked.

"Safe," she said, "looked after and protected"

"Where?" he demanded.

"Winterfell," she said, meeting his eyes and he looked to Jon then, his expression dark.

"You go against your family like this? Ally yourself with those who meant to overthrow the King we backed?!" he almost shouted at her but she didn't flinch.

"I went so you wouldn't force moon tea down my throat!" she snapped, "I went to save my son and ensure his legacy, just as Renly would have wanted"

"Aegon is giving you Storm's End?" Loras asked softly before her father could comment.

"The King is giving Steffon Storm's End," she corrected, "myself and my husband will govern the Stormlands until he comes of age"

"Your husband?" Mace said darkly, narrowing his eyes again.

"Yes, _my _husband, a man of my own choice," she said, her eyes flickering towards Jon's.

"Him?!" her father said incredulously, his cheeks flushing in fury.

"Yes, him," Margaery confirmed, "a better match than I could ever have hoped for"

"Better match?!" he repeated, staring at her as though he had never seen her before; "he is a bastard Margaery! Royal or not!"

"Is that everything father?" she asked him calmly, bouncing Steffon slightly in her arms as he began to grizzle; "Because my son is tired"

"By all means, get out of my sight," he snarled at her and she dropped into a short curtsey for him before marching towards the door that Jon moved to hold open for her.

"Margaery wait!" it was Loras who stopped her and she hesitated just before she walked through the door; "So long as you're happy, I'm pleased for you"

"Thank you," she turned to smile at him, "perhaps you and I can have luncheon tomorrow?"

"I'd like that," Loras nodded sincerely, "perhaps I could bring Willas?"

"If he'd like," she said carefully.

"He would," he promised, "he knows as well as I do what poison has come from this family"

"Then I'll see you both tomorrow," she smiled once more at him before making her way out.

"Make sure you take care of her," Loras said quietly to Jon then and he nodded.

"I will," he promised, "I will take care of both of them so long as I draw breath."

* * *

**A/N: **It was mostly happy ... I think.

Thoughts?

More soon.

:)


	65. Unexpected

**A/N: **Here's a new one for you, and a particularly annoying loose end that's been needling me will be tied up this time round!

Hope you guys enjoy!

**Deiron Lionheart: **Thank you, I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far. I urge patience on the subject of Jon's name and inheritance, all will be revealed in time I promise you!

Right, onwards to the chapter!

:)

* * *

**Unexpected**

* * *

_Casterly Rock_

* * *

Jaime's pounding heart seemed to slow as they rode even closer. The Rock stood there as ever it had, tall and imposing and untouched. The lion banners still fluttered proudly in the wind and the sight of it almost made him smile. He was still on edge though, his eyes scanning across and finding what looked like an encampment. They were still too far away to make out any banners, if there were even any banners at all. This hadn't been what he was expecting. After what the Ironborn had managed to do at Winterfell he was almost certain that when he arrived here he would be facing a fight. He called the order back to pick up the pace, changing the course of their destination to that of the small encampment he was sure was set up near the base of the Rock.

As they came ever closer his frown only grew deeper as he saw red cloaked guards milling around. Had the attack already happened? Had they been rebuffed, the survivors rounded up and left in this encampment? Jaime dismissed it at once, had they attacked any survivors would have been placed in the prison. At least he hoped they would have, for the sake of those he had left in command. As they came closer three of his own guards came forwards with a rough looking man between them and Jaime kept his eyes trained on them as he called for his host to pull up. He was down off his horse in an instant and marching towards those who had come forward, desperate to have answers.

"What is this?" he demanded at once as they all dropped down to one knee before him.

"Victarion Greyjoy," the rough man introduced himself and Jaime narrowed his eyes slightly at him as he rose back up to his feet.

"And what is the meaning of you being here?" he asked him, his eyes boring into his.

"My brother Euron had designs on the Rock," Victarion answered, "I did not, but as the younger brother I could only follow his command."

"Where is he then?" Jaime asked.

"Dead," Victarion answered and Jaime raised his brows.

"How convenient," he said lightly.

"I'm no kinslayer," Victarion said, meeting his eyes again, "he drank too much strong wine and choked in his sleep."

"What a way to go," Jaime said wryly, "but yet you're still here at the Rock instead of turning tail and sailing back to the Iron Islands."

"There would be no point sailing back when a new King sits the throne. I'm no fool Lannister, it'll not be long before the Islands are overrun and Balon put down. You think I want to sit there waiting for that to happen and risk being put down with him? No. I want to bend the knee, I want the King to give control of the Iron Islands to me." Victarion said.

"With Balon deposed the seat would go to his son, he still lives does he not?" Jaime raised an eyebrow.

"By all means, offer it to Theon, see what he says. The boy doesn't want it, he's happy at Winterfell with his northern wife breeding northern heirs. That boy is no more kraken than you are," he said.

"I will write to the King," Jaime said slowly, "then we will see what is to be done about you bending the knee."

"You know where to find me," Victarion held his eyes for a moment and Jaime nodded curtly before turning away from him.

He went back to his horse at once, barely giving a second thought to Victarion Greyjoy and his sudden desire to bend to the crown's will. Stranger things had happened during this war and right now his only concern was seeing whether Tommen and Myrcella were alright with his own eyes. He dug his heels firmly into his horse and set off at a canter towards the main gates which were being raised up as quickly as possible as he approached. The men hailed him as he rode through but he had no time nor desire to stop and chat with them. He would go and see the children, then he would write to the King and write to Jeyne. Gods, if he had known what would be waiting for them then he would have brought her with him. As it was he would now likely be without her for another few weeks while he waited for the King's response. He imagined that Aegon would want to see Greyjoy in person and so he would be needed to escort the man back to the Capitol.

Jaime clattered into the courtyard and dismounted at once, heading towards the keeps main doors but only getting to the bottom steps before Tommen and Myrcella came running out and exclaiming excitedly. Their Septa was following behind but Jaime barely spared her a glance before he dropped down to his knees to grab them up into his arms and hold them tightly. He hadn't realised how much he had missed them until this moment and again he wished that Jeyne was with him. The children would be disappointed that she was not with him but at least he could now promise them that she would be coming back to them. When they had left to join Aegon in the first place he had refrained from telling them that they would see Jeyne again, certain that she would choose to go back to the North with the Starks. She had chosen him though, and that brought a wide smile to his face as he pulled back from the children so he could appraise them properly.

"Are you both well?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes uncle Jaime," Myrcella answered him.

"Good," he nodded, the smile still on his face.

"I got a new kitten uncle Jaime," Tommen told him then and he chuckled.

"That sounds wonderful," Jaime said, "you will have to introduce them to me later"

"I will," Tommen grinned at him.

"Are you back forever now?" Myrcella asked then and his smile faltered slightly.

"I will have to go back to the Capitol," he said, "the King needs to see me again and I must escort Jeyne back here."

"Jeyne is coming back!" Tommen's eyes lit up and Myrcella looked delighted.

"Yes she is, but she couldn't come this time because she had to stay for the King's wedding. He is to marry one of her very good friends," Jaime told them.

"But she is coming back?" Myrcella's eyes were wide and slightly apprehensive.

"Yes she's coming back," he promised, "she is my wife and Lady of the Rock, and soon we will all be together again. I promise you."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb sighed exasperatedly as he rounded the corner to see Arya being put through her paces by Brienne in the tiltyard. His sister was supposed to be in lessons but her Septa had come to see him again, for the third time in as many days, and Robb was just about at the end of his tether. Arya wouldn't dare behave like this if their parents were here. She assumed that he was a pushover and that he wouldn't have time to sort her out because he was so busy running Winterfell. Dany had urged him to keep calm as he had marched out of his father's study, leaving her to continue on with the accounts without him. He hadn't replied, uncertain how he was going to deal with Arya. Telling her off hadn't worked so far but neither had ignoring the situation. Perhaps he could have a word with Brienne instead? He dismissed that, knowing that even if she wasn't able to spar with Brienne that Arya would no doubt convince some other poor soul to help her.

"Arya!" he shouted across the yard, "Come here now!"

She ceased clashing her sword against Brienne's then and the older woman bowed lowly to Robb, to which he inclined his own head and offered a brief smile. It wasn't Brienne's fault, she was merely doing her job, aiding Ser Rodrik with training now that the experienced knight was growing older. It had been expected that she would go south with the wedding party as Margaery was leaving but she had surprised them by asking if she could stay. She wasn't sure yet if she would stay permanently but for now she seemed to be enjoying Winterfell very much. Robb moved his eyes away from her then as Arya approached, looking slightly sheepish but more than a little defiant. He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment before gesturing to her to come and sit with him on one of the benches that lined the yard.

"You're supposed to be in lessons," he said once they had sat down.

"Lessons are boring," she told him sulkily and he rolled his eyes.

"I know they can be," he conceded, "I hated some of my own when I was your age, and I would have loved to be out in the tiltyard all day but brains are just as important as brawn Arya."

"And the Septa hates me," Arya continued.

"She does not hate you," Robb sighed, "she just doesn't know what to do with you since you escape from her at every chance you get."

"But I'm good at being in the tiltyard, Brienne says I am improving every day," she moaned.

"You wouldn't do this if mother and father were here," he said, his eyes boring into hers.

"Father let me learn when we were at the Capitol," she shot back at him.

"Alongside your usual lessons I'm sure," he countered and she scowled.

"Please don't ban me Robb," she said.

"I don't want to ban you," he assured her, "I've seen how good you are and how much you enjoy it but you have to attend your lessons."

"But …" she started.

"Listen," he cut her off, "how about a compromise? You attend all your lessons as you should and you can have an hours practice with Brienne in the morning and another hour in the evening? But if you miss one of your lessons I will take one of your tiltyard sessions away until attendance is improved, and if you skip more than one I'll ban you all together. If you can stick with it I'll have a word with mother when she gets home and make sure she doesn't forbid you from swordplay."

"Truly?" she asked.

"Well, father let you at the Capitol. I do not see why you can't continue learning now you're back here. But _only_ if you attend your lessons," he stressed.

"I will Robb, I promise," she said at once.

"You'd better," he said, meeting her eyes, "and I will be speaking with Brienne about this new arrangement so don't think you can fool her into thinking you are allowed to be here when you are not."

"Alright," she nodded.

"Good," he said, a slight smile gracing his lips, "now get back to your Septa before I change my mind."

Arya merely grinned at him then before she hugged him tightly around the middle for a quick moment. In the next instant she was on her feet and tearing back towards the keep. Robb hoped she would keep her promise, he had some faith that she would, given that if she missed anymore of her lessons that her time in the tiltyard would be cut. He rose up to his own feet then and set off back towards the keep to help Dany with the accounts. He felt rather proud of his compromise with Arya and he sincerely hoped his wife would approve with his solution. Even more so, he hoped his mother would understand it when she returned home to find that sparring had become an official part of Arya's daily lessons.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Over my dead body," Ned said and Aegon sighed.

"It is his last request," he tried but all he received was a glare in response.

"If his last request was to go free would you grant him that?" Ned demanded.

"Lord Stark …" Aegon began again.

"I know you're my King, and my kin. But you cannot ask this of me, I will not agree," Ned told him.

"Very well," Aegon nodded, "if that is your decision I respect it, but I had to ask."

Ned sat heavily down in one of the chairs then and pulled the flagon of wine towards him, pouring himself a glass with shaking hands. He could not believe what Aegon had just told him. He could not believe that that snake had requested to see Catelyn as his dying wish. Catelyn was going nowhere near him. Never. He would not allow it, not after the vile lies Littlefinger had spread about her. He took a long gulp of wine before setting it heavily back down on the table, his eyes meeting Aegon's for a moment and seeing the uneasy look in the younger man's eyes. At once Ned wanted to know what he was thinking while simultaneously wanting to know nothing of what was in his mind. He sighed heavily then in defeat before taking another sip of wine.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Aegon shook his head, "you have made your decision."

"You have a thought on the matter your Grace, please," Ned invited him.

"I wonder what Lady Stark would think of the matter," he said lightly and Ned grimaced.

"Cat has a good, gentle heart. She sees good in people where none can be found but even she knows why he has to die," Ned told him.

"I'm not disputing that my Lord," he said, "but if she discovered from another what his final request was then she would know it was you who denied it. Likely she would not want to see him anyway but do you really want to harbour a secret in your marriage now, after all this time?"

"And what if she does want to see him?" Ned asked him then, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Go with her," Aegon said simply and he sighed heavily; "No one can deny the love between you, perhaps if Littlefinger sees it with his own eyes then he will finally snap out of these delusions and stop spouting his poison at every opportunity."

"He will be without a head soon enough, that ought to be enough to shut him up," Ned snapped.

"Yes," Aegon agreed, "but it is a public execution and there is no telling what damage he could try and do with such an audience. He has rights to final words as well Lord Stark, I would hate it if he used them to blacken your good name and that of your family."

* * *

Catelyn wasn't in their rooms when Ned returned to them and he drummed his fingers impatiently on the table and hoped she would return soon before he changed his mind. Deep down he knew Aegon was right but allowing his wife to go anywhere near Littlefinger was making him feel deeply uneasy. Gods he hoped she would hurry up, if he had even the faintest idea of where she might be then he would have gone looking for her. As it was he didn't, and likely if he did go looking he wouldn't find her. This place wasn't like Winterfell, it was far too easy to get lost here. He let out a heavy sigh and drummed his fingers even more quickly on the wood, only ceasing when he heard the latch of the door. When he turned she was entering, a smile on her face that she turned on him when she saw him. He did his best to return it as she slipped her shawl from her shoulders and hung it over the back of a chair.

"Sansa had another dress fitting," she said then before he could open his own mouth; "she looks utterly beautiful Ned, you're going to be so proud of her."

"I already am," he said and she smiled even more widely at him, coming towards him and resting her hands on his upper arms before rubbing up and down them gently.

"You seem tense," she frowned slightly at him, "I must confess I thought you'd still be with the King. Nothing has happened has it?"

"Not exactly," he said and her frown deepened, her eyes holding his fast.

"What is it my love?" she asked him.

"Baelish has named his last request," he told her after a moment.

"And?" she raised her brows.

"He wants to see you," he said.

"Me?!" she asked in surprise, "Why me? Surely Lysa …"

"Word from the Vale Lords has her shut up in her rooms and refusing all visitors and meals," he said.

"I hate to think of her like that," she shook her head.

"He wants to see you Cat, and you and I both know why," he said after a moment of quiet.

"Ned …" she cocked her head to one side, sighing in slight exasperation.

"Deny it all you want Cat, he is still in love with you. Why else would he ask for you?" he said.

"Even if that is true you know I have never returned his feelings," her eyes bored into his, "you know I spared him from Brandon because he was like a brother to me."

"I know that," he agreed and she smiled slightly.

"You are the only man I have ever loved Ned Stark," she told him firmly, "even if at times you can be utterly ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" he raised his brows in amusement and her smile widened.

"Yes, ridiculous," she told him, "would you prefer it if I didn't go?"

"Do you want to go?" he asked in return.

"I have no particular desire to go … but then I imagine the King is worried he may make a scene if he does not get his final request," she said, raising her brows expectantly.

"He is worried, aye," he agreed.

"Then I will go," she nodded.

"I will escort you," he said in return and she nodded again, knowing it would do no good to argue.

* * *

Catelyn insisted Ned wait at the end of the row of cells and he reluctantly agreed. She could feel his eyes boring into her back as she walked slowly down to the end where he had told her that Petyr was locked away. Halfway down the row she turned back to send him a reassuring smile which she saw him try and return. In truth it had come out as more of a grimace but at least he had tried. She took a deep breath as she came closer, promising that she would only speak to Petyr of Lysa and her son. There was no desire in her to hear him repeat those feelings that he had declared for her all those years ago when he had foolishly challenged Brandon for a duel for her hand. He was never going to win and he knew it but she had managed to have his life spared. Somewhere in his mind he had twisted that to think that she returned his feelings despite the fact that she had told him over and over that he was nothing but a brother to her. Lysa had had the feelings. Not her. Why could Petyr not be content with that?

"Cat," he said quietly as she came to a halt right in front of the bars of his cell.

"Petyr," she greeted evenly, standing just far back enough that he wouldn't be able to touch her should he reach out through the bars.

"I wasn't sure you'd come, if your husband would let you," he said.

"Why would he not? You are of no threat to him, though as I head, it is not for lack of trying," she said lightly and he seemed to shift uneasily.

"You've heard some lies about me Cat …" he nodded, running his hand through his hair.

"So you did not pay Gold Cloaks to murder my husband?" she raised her brows.

"It is not quite as bad as it sounds," he said feebly and she snorted.

"Is there any message you would like me to pass on to Lysa?" she asked him then, determined to finish the conversation with him as soon as possible.

"I don't want Lysa, I want you … I have always wanted you. You know that Cat, why else would you have come to me that night?" he asked her and she frowned.

"What night?" she asked despite herself.

"That night, the night they announced your betrothal to that Stark brute. You came to me, after the feast … we gave one another our honour," he said quietly.

"Petyr … I gave my honour to my husband on our wedding night," she told him disbelievingly.

"No … you came to me, you came to me and it was ever so sweet Cat … come now, I am hours from death, please do not pretend anymore," he implored her, grabbing at the bars.

"I'm not pretending Petyr," she said firmly, "Ned is the first and only man I have been with, and that is the end of it."

"Cat …" he breathed, his eyes desperate.

"Whoever she was Petyr … she was not me, not unless you were dreaming," she said, meeting his eyes.

"It truly wasn't you?" he whispered and she shook her head; "But you said you loved me … you said my name and I said yours …"

"It wasn't me," she reiterated and she saw the acceptance in his eyes.

"You never loved me did you?" he asked her and she swallowed hard.

"Not in the way you wanted me to no," she said, "I loved you as a brother, no more. I love my husband, as it should be."

"I could have made you happy," he said; "if I had won that fight … I would have made you so happy."

"You were never going to win that fight Petyr," she smiled slightly, shaking her head.

"Perhaps not," he agreed with a slight laugh.

"You were such a fool to try, but you proved everyone wrong in the end didn't you," she said.

"And look where it's got me," he said bitterly.

"You aimed too high … you put one too many swords in one too many backs," she told him.

"Likely I did," he agreed.

"Did you have a message for Lysa?" she asked him again.

"She needs to let that boy go, if he is ever to do any good she needs to let him go. It's not healthy Cat, I think part of her has gone utterly mad," he said.

"I'll see what I can do," she said and he nodded.

"Will you be there? When they take my head?" he asked then and she swallowed hard.

"Yes," she said after a moment and he nodded again.

"At least I can look into your eyes one last time before the end," he smiled slightly.

"Goodbye Petyr," she said quietly after a moment before she turned away from him and made her way back down the row of cells and back towards her beloved Ned.

* * *

Jeyne shook slightly as Littlefinger was led out onto scaffold that had been erected in the main courtyard, hearing the jeers and taunts coming from the gathered crowd that were being kept back by a band of Gold Cloaks. Her eyes flickered towards Lord Stark then and he met her eyes, sending her a reassuring smile. She tried to return it, trying to get her breathing to come normally as she swallowed hard and looked back towards the scaffold. A hand slipped into hers then and for a mad moment she thought that Jaime had come. It only took a second to realise that the hand was far too soft and small. She turned her head to see Sansa, with the King at her side and she forced a smile to her face.

"You don't need to pretend with me," Sansa told her quietly.

"I feel sick," Jeyne confessed.

"It will be over in a moment," Sansa reassured her, squeezing her hand tightly.

"You didn't have to come out here and watch, you must have so much to do," Jeyne protested.

"Don't be silly," Sansa shook her head, "everything is well in hand, you are far more important than choosing flowers and candles for table decorations."

"Indeed," the King spoke up at her side, "is there honestly any difference between cream and ivory?"

"Not much from what I saw," Sansa smiled at him fondly and he grinned at her before he turned his attention to the scaffold, raising a hand to someone stood on it.

Jeyne somehow knew that the moment was coming then and she forced her eyes to Littlefinger, determined that she would not look away. She had no need to be scared of him anymore. The executioner knelt next to him then and asked if he had any final words. He looked almost stunned then for a moment as his eyes scanned the crowd, for what Jeyne didn't know. She thought a slight smile crossed his features for a moment and she frowned slightly as he shook his head and knelt down before the block.

"You don't have to look," Sansa whispered then, squeezing her hand tightly again.

"Yes I do," Jeyne whispered back as he lowered his head down onto the block.

She took a deep calming breath then, ignoring her churning stomach and just focusing on Sansa's hand tight in hers. In the next moment the executioner raised up the great sword above his head and she held her breath, her eyes not moving from the sword as she followed its progress as it slashed like lightening through the air. Some women behind her screamed and Sansa at her side took in a rather sharp intake of breath as the blood flowed from the stump where Littlefinger's head had been. Jeyne let her own breath out slowly, her eyes watching the steady stream of blood. Her stomach no longer churning. Her heart no longer constricted. It was like a great weight had been lifted and she felt the overwhelming urge to laugh. She didn't though. She merely tore her eyes away from him and turned her body towards Sansa, allowing her friend to pull her into a reassuring embrace. It was over. Done with. And good riddance.

* * *

**A/N: **Hopefully there will be more of a cheery vibe to the next chapter. More soon!

:)


	66. A New Dawn

**A/N: **Did somebody say Royal wedding?!

**Anthony: **Haha, I'm glad you approve. Good riddance indeed!

**Guest: **I'll say neither yes nor no, this chapter may give you a few clues though!

Right, here it is. Hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

**A New Dawn**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

The bells were chiming and Sansa took a deep breath as she appraised herself in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time. She caught her mother's eye and her heartbeat calmed somewhat when she saw her reassuring smile in the mirror. Her father would be here soon, leading her down to the open carriage in which she would travel to the Great Sept of Baelor for her wedding. Aegon had already gone, she had seen him from her window, his pale hair glinting in the sunlight as he made his way to his own carriage with Jon and Griff. She wondered if he felt as nervous as she did, if he was frantically thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong with the ceremony and the coronation and the feast. It didn't bear thinking about. She turned from the mirror, refusing to dwell on it anymore as she sent a beaming smile towards her mother and her ladies. As well as Jeyne she also had Margaery, her uncle Edmure's wife Roslin and Alys Karstark to attend on her during the day. Likely she wouldn't need them for much other than carrying her ridiculously long train or perhaps to utter a few calming words to her should she need them.

"Would you ladies mind stepping out for a moment, I would like a moment with Sansa before Ned arrives," her mother said then and the four of them rose up, Roslin with a little difficulty as her belly was well rounded with child. Margaery helped her to her feet and the four of them smiled happily as they made their way to the door. Once it was closed behind them her mother turned her eyes to her and came forwards, her eyes shining slightly. Sansa hoped she would keep her emotions at bay, if her mother broke down now then she had no doubt that she would do the same. "I know how terrifying it is," her mother said, "but at least he is not a complete stranger. I know you can't relish being back here but I also know that it will not end up like last time, your father and I would never risk putting you through something like that again. You know that, don't you?"

"Of course," Sansa answered her, swallowing hard.

"You can ask me anything, tell me anything," her mother told her firmly, "even when I am not here."

"I know," Sansa whispered, nodding her head slightly.

"I am so proud of you, so very proud of the woman you have become," she said, her voice shaking slightly and Sansa reached out to take her hand.

"I am the woman I am because of you mother," Sansa said and a tear finally escaped her mother.

"Oh Gods, if I start now I will never stop!" she scolded herself, brushing the tears furiously away as a knock sounded at the door. "That will be your father," she said, nodding rather briskly as she tried to regain her composure; "come in!"

He strode in in the next moment and Sansa turned her head to look at him, seeing an odd expression in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. A smile lit up his face in the next moment and it mirrored in her own expression as a wave of calm seemed to flood through her. Her father had a natural ability to make everyone around him feel completely at ease and she was so happy in that moment that he would be at her side from now right until the moment he placed her hand in Aegon's. "You look utterly beautiful Sansa," he told her then, sincerity lining every inch of his face; "I am so proud of you, of your strength and your kindness. The Kingdom's don't know how lucky they are that they will be blessed with you as their Queen." Sansa had no words to reply to him as she bit down on her lip to keep the tears at bay. All she could do was walk to him and wrap her arms around his waist. His own arms came about her and they clutched one another close for a long minute before she pulled back and met his eyes. "We'd best go," she smiled, "we ought not to keep them waiting."

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Jon murmured to Aegon as they stood waiting at the altar.

"Like I wish I had done what you did and married in private," Aegon replied and Jon smiled slightly.

"She's a good person," Jon said then.

"I know she is," Aegon turned to meet his eyes, "and I know she deserves all of this and more. I will do my best to deserve her Jon."

"You'll make this work somehow, both of you will," Jon assured him and he nodded.

There was nothing else to be said then as the tolling bells stopped and he knew that Sansa was now entering the Sept. He swallowed hard as Jon clapped him heartily on the back before moving away and seating himself down next to Griff. Aegon concentrated on breathing evenly as the echoing footsteps came closer and closer to where he was stood facing the Septon who had a wide smile on his face. He could hear the favourable murmurings of the crowd gathered to witness this union and he could only imagine that his bride looked utterly stunning. In the next moment he didn't need to imagine anymore as she came to his side on her father's arm. He held out his hand automatically, his eyes taking in the image of her in the beautifully cut ivory silks and lace she was wearing. In the next moment her hand was in his and he raised his eyes to meet hers, seeing a small smile adorn her face which he endeavoured to return. His eyes slid to her father's then and Lord Stark nodded slightly to him before he retreated to sit himself down next to Jon and his wife.

Both of them turned to face the High Septon then and Aegon inclined his head slightly to give him leave to begin the ceremony. "Will you cloak this woman and bring her under your protection?" he asked then, his voice ringing out through the vast space of the Sept. "I will," Aegon replied determinedly before turning to take the black velvet cloak adorned with the three headed Targaryen dragon from Jon who smiled encouragingly at him. He turned back to Sansa then, noting the rapid rise and fall of her chest, before he swept the cloak around her shoulders in one graceful move. She smiled again for him then and he felt slight relief as he took her hand again as the Septon came forward to entwine their hands with the ribbon. Aegon swallowed hard when it was done and the Septon stepped back, looking between them with a bright smile on his face; "In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words."

They turned as one to look into one another's eyes, their voices blending into one as they recited the words that thousands had uttered before them. It was so simple but ever so binding and Aegon could almost feel the responsibility crushing him as they came to the end. He took a deep breath then before leaning in and pressing his lips to Sansa's. They were soft and warm and he couldn't help but let his own linger for a moment before he pulled back from her, meeting her eyes again and seeing something in them that he couldn't quite place. Before he could dwell on it the Septon was speaking again and he turned his attention to him as he came forward and unbound their hands. From the corner of his eye he could see a few young squires bringing forth the two thrones that he and Sansa would soon be seated on. They were carved simply of wood, the three headed dragon rising up from the back of them and decorated with a simple red cushion. Two other squires came forward with the golden crowns then, again they were made simply, elegantly twisted together and merely studded with a few glinting rubies. He looked towards Sansa then and she smiled reassuringly, her hand squeezing his.

"Kneel," the High Septon urged them then and he did as he was bid, Sansa dropping down right next to him, their hands finally unclasping. They both bowed their heads as the Septon recited the blessing for the coronation, Aegon's hands shaking slightly as he realised that in just a few moments he would officially be the King of Westeros. He looked up when the High Septon came before him and swallowed hard. "I name you Aegon Targaryen, sixth of your name, King of the Seven Kingdoms." The blessed oil was spotted onto his forehead then and Aegon bowed his head again, his heart pounding as the High Septon moved to Sansa. "I name you Sansa Targaryen of house Stark, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." Aegon raised his head up then and looked to the side to see the oil being spotted onto her forehead. She turned her head then and smiled at him again and he took her hand, raising them both up as one as the High Septon retreated back to the thrones.

He and Sansa stepped forward as one, walking slowly towards the thrones, Aegon only releasing her hand when it came time for them to turn and face the watching crowd. They lowered themselves down together and Aegon could only hope he looked as graceful and serene as his new wife and Queen did at his side. The High Septon was blessing their crowns now before he carefully took the larger of the two in his hands and walked slowly towards him. Aegon took a breath as the crown was held up above his head, just waiting for it to be lowered down onto him. "Long may he reign," the High Septon called and the words were chanted back by those watching as the weight of the crown was lowered down onto his head. The High Septon moved to take Sansa's crown into his hands then and Aegon watched as it was held high above her flaming head. "Long may she reign," he called out then and Aegon repeated the words along with everyone else in attendance as the crown was lowered down onto her head. He felt relief and an overwhelming sense of pressure all at the same time then but when he turned to look at her it eased somewhat. They reached out for one another's hand at the same moment then and he couldn't help but smile widely at her. Part of him had been dreading this, but as he laced his fingers with Sansa's he could finally admit to himself that he had done the right thing.

* * *

Val couldn't help herself, rising up from her chair as the ever increasing cheers and shouts from the crowds reached her ears. Evidently it was over. He was lost to her now, married to another and the fact of it made her heart constrict painfully. The baby moved insistently inside her as she crossed to the window and she rubbed at her stomach in a soothing manner. It wouldn't be long now, the child would come soon enough. The child she shared with the man who was waving from the open topped carriage as it travelled down the wide street that led to the main courtyard. Val could see his golden crown glinting in the sun and see the crown glinting on his new wife's head as well as she waved at his side. They were sat closer to one another than she thought was strictly necessary and it pained her that Aegon might actually be developing real feelings for the Stark girl. She knew it was irrational and she knew it was selfish. The girl had never done anything to her, in fact, from what Aegon said she had only ever been concerned for her. Somehow that just made it even worse. The last thing she needed was pity from the wife of the man she so desperately loved.

They were coming into the courtyard now, the gates lowering down behind them as the carriage came to a halt just in front of the main doors. Aegon got down from the carriage first before extending his hand up for his wife to take. She climbed carefully down then and Val felt her eyes narrow as she saw him place his hand to the small of her back and lean in to whisper something into her ear. She could practically see the feelings they had for one another manifesting before her eyes. Aegon had sworn that he loved her but was it really so difficult to imagine that he would fall for the Stark girl? She was beautiful. Caring. Understanding. The smallfolk would simper and fawn over her, their perfect Queen. All she needed was a son and then she really would have everything, even Aegon's heart. Val was certain she would capture it, how could she not? A tear slipped from her eye then as she watched them link arms and walked slowly up the steps and into the keep. The baby moved again then and she turned from the window, the tears falling faster as she began coming to her solution in her mind. It would break her heart she was certain of it, but she knew deep down that it was the only way she would ever have a chance of breaking free of Aegon's chains.

* * *

The feast had been sumptuous, the toasts raised heartfelt and beautiful. The conversation and the laughter had flowed as well as the wine. Perfect. That was one way to describe it, everything going without a hitch. Not one note was played out of tune by the musicians and the dancers hadn't put a foot wrong. Everything had been utterly wonderful. They were away from there now and it was just the two of them in the vast chambers that had been built so many years ago for the King and Queen. Sansa stood gazing out of the large arched window, her eyes fixated on the stars and the moon that were shining high above her. She could hear Aegon clinking bottles together as he poured them both a measure of wine and she took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn't putting any pressure on her but she knew that the marriage would have to be consummated at some point during the night. They had slipped away from the feasting and merriment, the traditional bedding ceremony having been banned by both Aegon and her father. Sansa was glad, the thought of the men pawing at her the way she had witnessed them pawing at Roslin at the Twins made her feel sick. It made her remember those men during the riots. Made her remember their hands on her bare skin, touching her where she didn't want. Feeling that man hard right up against her and preparing to force himself on her.

She shuddered then despite herself and in the next instant she felt Aegon's hand on her shoulder and she turned her head to smile at him. He returned her smile but she could see that he looked uneasy as he held her wine out to her. "Thank you," she said quietly and he inclined his head to her before turning back to the side table and picking up his wine glass. "To my Queen," he said quietly, raising his glass to her before taking a long drink from it. "This room is incredible," she said after a moment of quiet, walking slowly to the other side of it and better taking in some of the features. "I am sure it will be even more incredible when you have worked your magic on it," he replied and she smiled slightly. "Hopefully you will approve of my taste," she said, turning to face him. "I don't doubt it," he said, a smile playing about his own lips. She wasn't sure what to say then so she settled for taking a few small sips of the wine and tried to concentrate of breathing evenly as Aegon placed his own glass down and began loosening the ties of his doublet. She had already discarded her cloak and their crowns had come from their heads as soon as they had entered the chamber, both of them relieved that the weight was finally lifted for a time.

Sansa took a longer drink then before she set her own cup down and moved towards the vanity, settling down in front of it and easing the combs that were holding her hair in place out of her tresses. Her hair had a wave to it where it had all been twisted and plaited up and she shook it out as she set the combs down on the vanity. She swallowed hard as Aegon appeared in the mirror, his doublet discarded now as his pale violet eyes found hers and held them fast. After a moment she shifted up again and moved towards him. He had an almost apprehensive look in his eyes and she was desperate to know what he was thinking as she came to a halt mere inches from him. She decided to ask him then, he had always urged her to speak her mind around him and she determined to do so. "What are you thinking?" she asked softly and he smiled slightly, his hand coming up to gently twist a lock of her hair around in his fingers. "How beautiful you are," he replied after a moment; "how I'm sure I have done nothing to deserve you and your kindness."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," she said quietly, meeting his eyes.

"You give me too much," he returned, his head coming hesitantly closer to hers, her own mirroring his movement after a moment.

Their lips touched in the next instant. Softly. Tentatively. Much the same way as they had in the Sept. Sansa hadn't been sure what to think then when his lips had lingered a little longer than she had imagined he had meant them to. From his action she had been almost certain that part of him must desire her. She herself had found herself more attracted to him since she had arrived at the Capitol. It was the little things he did, the little things that meant so much to her. Whether it was having her favourite cakes baked specially for dinner or the fact that he remembered which wine she favoured drinking. He was considerate, far more considerate than she had expected him to be given that he was now King and had a thousand and one things to do on a daily basis. She had promised herself that she would help him as best she could once they were married and she determined that she would keep that promise.

Her mind was pulled back to the present then as Aegon's hands came to rest lightly on her waist to tug her ever so slightly closer to him. There was barely an inch between their bodies now as they continued their slow kiss, his lips encouraging hers to part so he could slide his tongue with hers. It felt strange at first but Sansa soon caught onto the rhythm and felt more confident in the movement of her own lips. She imagined she must be doing it right as his fingertips clenched slightly into her waist before he pulled her body right up against his. Her own hands came to rest on his shoulders as his slid up her back to find the laces of her wedding gown. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she felt him untie them, the tightness of her bodice coming looser and looser. When it slipped from her shoulders she pulled out of the kiss, her eyes finding his as his hands came to slowly ease the material away from her. It fell fluidly to the floor in the next moment and she was left in just her shift, her hands slipping down from his shoulders to his upper arms as she swallowed hard.

Aegon took a tiny step back then and she released her grip on his arms, his own hands coming to tug his shirt out of his breeches as she did so. He pulled the material up and over his head then and Sansa's breath constricted slightly as she took in his bare chest. Aegon seemed to look to her as though for approval and she managed to smile for him, seeing the relief cross his features. He took another step back then so he could seat himself on the end of the bed to unlace his boots. Sansa watched him for a moment before she moved to the side of the bed. He was pulling one boot off and she took a deep breath before hooking her fingers under the straps of her shift and letting it fall to the floor. She pulled back the covers of the bed quickly and slipped under them as he pulled off his other boot and made to stand up. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he walked slowly around to the other side of the bed, his fingers slowly unlacing his breeches as he did so. She averted her eyes as he made to tug them down his hips and didn't look back towards him again until she felt him slide into the bed beside her.

Aegon shifted closer, his hand brushing against her arm as he did so and she turned her head further towards him at his movement. He met her eyes and held them fast as he slowly shifted under the covers so he could climb on top of her. Sansa forced herself to breathe, automatically opening her legs so he could settle between them when in reality all she wanted to do was clamp them closed, roll onto her side and curl up into a ball. Aegon seemed to sense her fear, his brow creasing in concern as he lowered himself slowly down against her until their bare bodies were touching. He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead then and the action had her own arms wrapping around him and pulling him closer to her. Despite feeling so afraid she wanted him closer, his scent was so comforting, his flesh so warm and soothing under her touch. He pressed another kiss to her temple, one of his hands stroking soothingly through her hair. "I'm sorry it has to be like this," he whispered against her skin then, his warm lips fluttering against her temple. "It's only the first time," she whispered back, her nails pinching lightly into his back; "it's not your fault."

He murmured his apology again then, the hand that wasn't in her hair coming down to stroke up and down her thigh, coaxing her leg up around his waist. She allowed her other leg to come up the same way, her mouth painfully dry as she tried to swallow, feeling him right there up against her. She forced the bad memories away. This was no disgusting man who wanted to force himself on her. This was Aegon. Her husband, a man who cared for her and had no desire to hurt her. She managed to gulp down a breath of air then and Aegon shifted his head so he could look into her eyes again. He looked as though he wanted to say something but she didn't want to hear it, shaking her head slightly from side to side. He seemed to understand her gesture and no words came from his mouth. Instead he bent his head to kiss her again and Sansa closed her eyes, kissing him back, letting the slow, sensual rhythm of it consume all of her. Her body relaxed as they continued on and she forced her mind to think of Aegon and his kiss and nothing else.

When he shifted slightly above her she knew that this was it and she couldn't help but tense. He didn't move his lips from hers though, his hand on her thigh still stroking gently up and down as the one in her hair clamped a bunch of it tightly. He began to push into her then and she tried to force her body to stay relaxed as he pushed slowly down right into her, a sting of pain throbbing between her legs and a tiny noise of discomfort leaving her. It was swallowed up by his mouth on hers as his kiss became more insistent, his hips moving back before pushing back into her again. She could still feel the dull pain but moreover it just felt strange, intrusive and more than a little uncomfortable. Aegon moved his lips from hers then, his slow thrusts continuing and his lips trailing down her jawline and towards her neck. It felt nice, him kissing her like that and she tried to concentrate on that rather than the feeling of him moving within her. She wondered if she ought to do anything or just lay there and let him finish his business. He seemed pleasured enough as he let out a groan against the skin of her neck and so she lay still where she was, her hands flat on the planes of his back, admiring the way his muscles felt under her skin as he continued to move.

He lifted his head up to meet her eyes then and she saw a slight frown grace his features as another stifled groan left his mouth. His hand unclenched from her hair then and he let his fingers whisper down her collarbone and towards her breasts. After a moment he enclosed his hand around one of them and began to gently massage her. At first it just made her feel even more awkward but then he applied the perfect pressure and her back arched despite herself, her movement causing him to reach something inside her that made her gasp. That felt all new and strange. Pleasurable almost. He twisted the hardened bud of her breasts between her fingers then and she let out a tiny whimper of pleasure that seemed to smooth away the frown on his forehead. He let his lips take over at her breast then and she almost cried out, enjoying what he was doing to her despite her embarrassment. Her back arched again and again she felt him touch that place inside her. This time she knew it was pleasure he had driven through her and a tiny cry escaped her when she gasped out. Aegon groaned out against her breast then, sounding almost frustrated. For a moment she thought she had done something wrong but in the next moment he had groaned out again and she felt him spill himself inside her and she knew it was done.

"I'm sorry," he panted out as he rolled away to lay at her side.

"I'm alright," she replied and he turned onto his side and propped himself up to look at her.

"I will bring you real pleasure next time Sansa, I swear to you," he promised, eyes fixed on hers.

"I …" she started, not even sure what to say to that.

"I'm sorry it was so uncomfortable," he said, "it won't be like that again I promise."

"I know," she nodded slightly and he almost looked relieved.

"We should sleep," he said after a moment, "there is much do be done on the morrow."

"Aegon?" she said quietly as he rolled onto his back.

"Yes?" he asked in return, turning his head to look at her.

"Would you hold me?" she asked him in a tiny voice and he moved his arm out to her at once.

"Come here," he said gently and she shifted herself carefully into his arms.

"Thank you," she whispered as she lay her head down on his chest, his arms coming around her.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head as she closed her eyes.

* * *

**A/N: **Another bow tied up! Hope you enjoyed that! More soon.

:)


	67. Good Knights

**A/N: **Here's another one for you folks. Sorry it's late but my laptop blue screened and I lost three chapters. Long story short I've rewritten two of them so here is the first one! Hope you enjoy it, it isn't the original one I had but I think I prefer it. Anyway, let me know, and thanks again for the support!

:)

* * *

**66\. Good Knights**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa slipped her hand into the crook of Aegon's elbow as they walked right up to the double doors of the throne room, the guards on either side bowing lowly before swiftly moving to open the doors so they could sail right in. She had offered to sit in with him as he held court and he had been happy to accept her offer, thinking that it might be less tedious with someone at his side. So far the only truly enjoyable day he had had holding court had been when he had knighted the men who had been chosen for the honour after their actions in the war. Jon had been one of them and he smiled slightly at the memory of the look of shock on his brother's face when he had announced his name. Robb would get a knighthood too but Lord Stark would have to bestow that on him since he was back at Winterfell now. Aegon silently reminded himself that he really ought to write to Dany later since her baby would likely be born in the next few weeks. He turned his head to look at Sansa then, seeing a faint blush on her cheeks as all those present in the throne room bowed and curtseyed low to them as they made their way up the aisle.

The thrones from the coronation had been moved to the base of the Iron Throne and Aegon was again pleased that Sansa had decided to join him. With her by his side he had a legitimate reason not to sit on that death trap. It was a magnificent looking thing he couldn't deny but sitting on it just made his tension even worse as he knew one wrong move would see him bleeding to death. He and Sansa reached their thrones then and he smiled at her before they turned to face those assembled, waiting until she had sat down and arranged her skirts about her before he took his own seat. Griff winked at him from his place standing by one of the side doors then and Aegon rolled his eyes at him before gesturing for the court announcer to proceed. "Presenting Lord Willas Tyrell to you, your Graces," the announcer said and Aegon smiled faintly. Willas he liked. Finally, a good start to proceedings. Willas came forward then and bowed as best he could with his cane before straightening up to look between Aegon and Sansa.

"Your Grace, my Queen," he said courteously, nodding to them both and they returned the gesture.

"What can we do for you, my Lord?" Aegon asked, raising his brows slightly.

"I wonder if your Grace would consider me for your council," he said and Aegon's brows shot up even higher.

"I had thought you would return to Highgarden my Lord, your father leaves at the end of the week does he not?" Aegon asks.

"I have no desire to go back there. My father and I have had certain disagreements that I would prefer not to divulge so publically," Willas said meaningfully.

"I see," Aegon nodded, he would bet his throne that Mace was unhappy with his son and heirs choice of bride.

"I would prefer to stay in the Capitol, if you have use of me your Grace," Willas said.

"I will consider it, no doubt something can be found for you," Aegon said.

"Thank you your Grace," Willas looking incredibly grateful and Aegon smiled at him.

"We shall speak again soon, perhaps more privately?" he raised a brow.

"Yes your Grace," Willas bowed lowly, inclining his head to him and Sansa again before he retreated back to his place.

Aegon looked to his wife then and she turned her head gracefully and sent him a smile. He returned the gesture, pleased to see her looking so relaxed, before he turned back and shifted slightly in his seat as he waited for the next person to be announced. "Ser Olyvar Frey, your Graces," the announcer declared and Aegon smiled widely. Olyvar had been one of the men knighted the week previously as he had shown extraordinary bravery out on the Blackwater. The actions of him and some other men on his ship had saved hundreds from drowning when one of their fellow ships had run into rocks. Olyvar bowed lowly just as Willas had before straightening up, an almost apprehensive look on his face as his eyes darted between Sansa and Aegon.

"Is the knighthood not enough Ser?" Aegon asked jokingly, "What more can I do for you?"

"I only ask one thing your Grace," Olyvar said, "the honour of a place in your Kingsguard."

"Kingsguard?" Aegon repeated, "I must say I'm surprised Ser. It would mean giving up your lands, and the chance of taking a wife and having a family."

"I will inherit no lands," Olyvar shook his head, "and I will have no family. The woman I love has long since been lost to me."

Aegon frowned then as he noticed Olyvar's eyes slide towards Sansa and he couldn't help but turn his head to look at her. She was staring determinedly in front of her, her usually pale face an almost deathly white and something needled there in the pit of his stomach. Something that felt a lot like realisation. He snapped his head back to Olyvar Frey then and noted the man quickly look back towards him. Aegon had seen the fleeting look of longing cross his features though and he did not like it one bit. Somehow he managed not to narrow his eyes, instead smiling as he should and considering him for a long moment. Really he had no reason to refuse Olyvar, no reason he could voice anyway. All he had was a nagging feeling and even if it were true he could never judge Sansa for it. He had done far worse with Val, Sansa's honour had been well and truly intact when he had taken her as his wife. A heavy sigh left him and he nodded slowly.

"If you are certain Ser, then of course it would be my pleasure to have you amongst my Kingsguard," Aegon said.

"Thank you, your Grace. It is an honour," Olyvar bowed deeply, his eyes again flickering to Sansa when he straightened up.

Aegon nodded to dismiss him then, well and truly irked as the man kept stealing glances at Sansa as he returned back to his place. He knew it was childish and petty, cruel, even, but he reached out to take her hand anyway, turning his head so he could meet her eyes. She still looked rather blanched but she brought a smile to her face as he bestowed one on her and he brought the back of her hand up to his lips for a lingering moment. When he turned back to the court he noted Olyvar Frey was now staring intently at the floor and he was ashamed of how satisfied he was with the sight.

* * *

Sansa had to fight to keep her emotions in check as she descended down from her chambers and into the private courtyard where she would be saying goodbye to her family. It was bad enough that they were leaving but now she had the added pressure of Olyvar being given a white cloak. She was furious with him but she forced him to the back of her mind as the door out to courtyard was opened up for her, determining that she would focus on her family now. Olyvar could wait. Or perhaps he couldn't. Aegon was out in the yard already, deep in conversation with her father as Olyvar and Loras stood several feet back from him, their eyes constantly scanning the area. She met Olyvar's eyes then and averted her own at once, picking up her pace slightly and approaching her family. Her mother turned from speaking with Jon and smiled widely at her, her eyes welling with tears that Sansa prayed would not escape her. If her mother broke down then no doubt she would do exactly the same thing and she thought if she started now then she might not be able to stop.

"Come here," her mother said simply and Sansa stepped into her warm, comforting embrace at once. "Write as often as you can but don't trouble yourself too much, you have much responsibility here. Don't forget to take a little time just for yourself," her mother murmured into her ear as she held her close. Sansa clutched her back and breathed in her comforting, motherly scent for a long moment to calm her emotions before she trusted herself to speak. "I'll miss you so much, and I'll write as often as I can I promise you. Give the others my love, and let us know about the baby as soon as you can," she said quietly to her mother who agreed at once before gently stepping away from her. "I am so proud of you. Always," her mother met her eyes and she nodded briskly, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. Bran came forward then and she just held her little brother as tightly as she could for the longest time before she let him go. "Keep practicing," she nodded, "Aegon was so pleased with you as his squire … no doubt I can persuade him to give you a knighthood one day," she jested and he grinned at her.

"Perhaps you can persuade him to hold a tourney so I can show off my skills," he returned and she laughed lightly.

"Yes, perhaps I can when everything settles down a little," Sansa smiled at him.

"I'll miss you," Bran said, meeting her eyes, "but it's not like last time."

"No," she agreed, still smiling, "no, it is nothing like last time."

"All set?" her father's voice came from behind her then and she swallowed hard as Bran and her mother nodded.

He came before her in the next moment and bowed shortly to her. She rolled her eyes at his action and he chuckled, holding his hand out for hers. She gave it to him with an exasperated sigh and he pressed a kiss to the back of it. "My Queen," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement and she narrowed her eyes slightly. "That is quite enough of that," she told him and he chuckled again before his expression became serious. In the next moment she had been crushed into his arms and she held him back tightly, not even caring that she could barely breathe. He released her then, looking as though he was going to say something before he seemed to change his mind, turning to usher her mother and Bran towards the horses. "Goodbye Jon," he smiled, catching Jon in a swift embrace for a moment, ruffling his hair and making Jon swat at him when he pulled away. Sansa was strongly reminded of growing up at Winterfell in that moment, she half expected Robb and Dany to come strolling around the corner, or else Arya to come tearing out of nowhere with Theon following on after her in a flurry of exclamations and curses. She caught Jon's eye then and she knew that he was thinking exactly the same thing. Gods, so much had changed.

Her father turned back then after helping her mother atop her horse and raised his hand to her in farewell. She did the same back to him, feeling a hand on her shoulder and knowing Aegon had come up behind her. "Safe journey to you all," his voice confirmed it to her in the next moment; "and good luck at the Eyrie!" he added. Her father visibly grimaced then and Sansa sent him a sympathetic smile. They all knew that he didn't really want to go the Eyrie, he wanted to go straight home, but letters from the Vale Lords had convinced everyone that someone needed to go there. Sansa hoped that things weren't as bad as they seemed but if they were then something would have to be done about it and her mother was determined that she would be the one to do it. "Goodbye," Jon raised his hand in farewell as he backed away from the departing party. Sansa followed suit, and she assumed Aegon had too as one of his hands left her shoulders. In the next moment the hooves were clattering against the courtyard and Sansa swallowed hard, lowering her hand again and determining not to cry. Jon turned back to her and she tried to smile. She must have failed though because in the next moment he had come towards her and before she knew it she was in his arms.

When they broke apart she turned to face Aegon and saw him looking troubled. She tried another smile but he shook his head slowly. "You're not fooling me," he said softly, "come on, let's get you back inside." She could only nod then, taking the hand he held out to her and lacing her fingers firmly with his. He squeezed her hand tightly and she was glad of the pressure, returning it as they walked in step back towards the door. Again she avoided Olyvar's eyes as he and Loras moved to follow them in. She would just have to get used to his presence, perhaps after a time she wouldn't even notice he was there. Her grip tightened on Aegon's hand, determining that she would only focus on him from here on out.

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"That's good. That's really good Rickon," Robb grinned at his youngest brother as they both lowered their sparring swords.

"Do you think father will let me use real steel soon?" Rickon asked in return.

"I don't think so," Robb chuckled, ruffling his hair, "now go and get yourself a drink, you look exhausted."

Rickon grinned at him, shoving his blunted blade into the rack and tearing across the yard to pick up his water skin. Robb watched him with a smile on his face, seeing how he was caught up in conversation with Ser Rodrik after a moment. He turned to cast his eyes around the rest of the yard, seeing Theon at the archery boards with Arya eyeing his bow with an almost hungry expression on her face. Gendry rounded the corner in the next moment, depositing new blades next to the armoury before joining Ser Rodrik and Rickon in their continued conversation. Brienne and Jory were sparring and Robb was pleased to note that the older man had at least some of the spring back in his step. His eyes were still haunted but he had good people around him who could make him smile and Robb was glad of it. Winterfell was mending, it might not be fully healed yet but it was getting there steadily. Robb's smile widened in the next moment as Dany came round the corner and into the yard, a smile on her own face when she caught his eye.

He ambled towards her, kissing her lightly on the lips when they met and placing his hand atop her stomach which was near fit to burst now. "What are you doing out here?" he asked her as she lay her own hand on his. "I came to find you, there is a letter for you … sealed by the crown," she raised her eyebrows expectantly as she handed him the letter. "Strange," Robb frowned slightly on seeing the seal before he slid his thumb underneath and eased it open. "What is it?" Dany asked him as his eyes widened, barely able to believe what he was reading. "Aegon's giving me a knighthood," he said in a slightly dazed manner and she beamed at him. "That's wonderful!" she exclaimed and he managed a smile, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. "My father will bestow it on me when he returns. Gods … I can't believe it," he almost laughed as Dany beamed up at him. "After what you did at the Wall it is the least you deserve," she told him and he bent to kiss her again. "We ought to celebrate," she went on when he pulled away.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"Nothing too strenuous," she smiled.

"No," he agreed, rubbing her stomach affectionately.

"Perhaps just a dinner with friends?" she suggested and he nodded.

"That sounds wonderful," he smiled.

"Right, leave it to me then … you ought to get back to your sparring," she said.

"I'm finished," he told her, "I'll come back to the keep and help you. You ought not to be going to so much trouble in your condition."

"It isn't that much trouble," she returned as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, "and I'm pregnant, not infirm."

"I know that, but your time is close, what did the Maester say about relaxing?" he countered.

"I _am _relaxed," she stressed, "your trouble is you worry too much."

"Am I not allowed to be concerned about my wife?" he asked.

"Concern is one thing, your fussing is quite another," she told him with a slight smile.

"Just let me help," he said.

"Fine," she sighed exasperatedly, "but if you get in the way you're in trouble."

"I'll behave," he promised and she shook her head, a sigh leaving her that told him she didn't believe a word of it.

* * *

Adele walked happily down the hallway towards the small parlour where they would be dining with Robb and Dany. Theon's fingers were laced tightly with hers as they walked in perfect step. She turned her head to look up at him and he turned his own at the same time. They smiled widely at one another then and Adele saw a most familiar glimmer in his eyes to which she frowned slightly. He stopped them in the next moment and before she could protest he was backing her into an alcove. "Theon, what are you -," she started but he cut her off in a moment by placing his lips on hers and kissing her senseless. "Do you remember this place?" he breathed against her lips when he pulled away. A smile spread across her face then. Yes indeed, she did remember. It felt so long ago now when Theon had knelt down before her and given her more pleasure than she had ever known in her life. "How could I forget?" she asked in return, cocking her head to one side. "I love you so much," he breathed, pulling her close to him and burying his head in the crook of her neck. "I love you," she whispered back, holding him just as tightly as she stroked her hand soothingly through his hair.

Theon still had his moments of darkness. He woke her in the night sometimes with his screams and it killed her inside to see the look of panic in his eyes when she finally succeeded in waking him up. Other times she would wake of her own accord and find herself alone in bed. On those nights she would find him sat next to Darion's cradle with an unreadable expression on his face. She knew his sister's death haunted him. That he felt responsible for Winterfell coming under attack. In his mind if he had stayed in Pyke then they never would have come. Adele didn't know if he was right or not, all she knew was that she thanked the Gods every day that he had come home safely to her and their son. "We don't have to stay long if you don't want," she murmured, her hand still stroking through his hair. "No I want to stay … it will make a change for us, being without Darion for once," he said, pulling away from her and bringing a smile to his face that she wasn't entirely certain was genuine. "Very well," she smiled back, meeting his eyes for a moment as she stroked her hand tenderly down his cheek. "We'd best get on, they'll be waiting," Theon smiled more genuinely this time and she took the hand he held out gladly and let herself fall back into step with him as they approached the parlour.

Adele knocked when they reached the door and they were called to come in after a moment. Dany and Robb were already seated and she sent them a wide smile as Theon closed the door behind them. "I thought we might be late, but here Gendry and Serra haven't arrived yet," Adele said as she made her way to seat herself down next to Dany. "They're not coming," Dany told her as she settled down, "Serra is still feeling unwell with the baby."

"Poor thing," Adele said sympathetically, "I remember that with Darion, but then Loral gave me a tonic that eased it."

"I wish I knew how to make it," Dany said, "she made it for me too … perhaps I could ask Maester Luwin?"

"Or perhaps you can relax and remain well rested and I will ask Maester Luwin," Robb said pointedly and she shook her head at him.

"How is Darion?" Dany asked then, ignoring Robb's interjection.

"Sitting up unaided," Adele said, "it's frightening how quickly he is growing."

"Ser Ralf says he will be crawling before we know it," Theon grinned.

"Safe to say I am not looking forward to that," Adele said, "I will never be able to take my eyes from him, he is much too like Theon."

"Well you did marry him," Robb said in an amused tone, "you have no one to blame but yourself for that."

"I am here you know," Theon said exasperatedly.

"Yes, you should hear what we say about you behind your back," Dany smiled slyly.

"I dread to think," he rolled his eyes.

"You know we love you really," Adele said teasingly and she could see him fighting a smile.

"Funny way of showing it," he muttered.

"How about I show it with some fine ale?" Robb asked, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Where from?" Theon asked.

"The Westerlands," Robb told him.

"Very well," Theon smiled, "we may as well drink to pass the time while the women gossip."

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Benjen descended the steps from the keep, his eyes going for the tunnel which was opening to reveal the returning rangers. He did a headcount and noted two missing. It could have been worse he supposed but the sooner reinforcements arrived the better. The new King had promised men for them and word had come that the ships had sailed. Moreover they needed dragonglass and the King had promised that as well. Mining on Dragonstone had been increased, or so it had been told in the crown sealed letter he had received a few days before. Benjen knew he had to be patient for the arrivals but he would have to stop the ranges altogether if he kept losing good men. They were running low on their already limited supply of dragonglass so he would have to make a decision soon about whether or not is was worth going out beyond the Wall. Once reinforcements came he would be able to send out bigger parties and with better weapons. Until then … well, how could he possibly justify sending men out to their deaths?

"Gren!" he beckoned the young lad at the helm of the returning men over.

"My Lord," Gren bowed his head slightly as he came towards him.

"What news?" he asked.

"We got to Craster's Keep," Gren told him with a slight grimace, "he's still there and charming as ever, no boy born while we were there."

"Did you see anything?" Benjen asked him.

"Wights," he nodded, "but no Walkers."

"You've lost two," Benjen stated then and Gren nodded heavily.

"Aye, my Lord, they came on us in the night. We got fire to them quick as we could," Gren said.

"Good lad," Benjen clapped him on his shoulder.

"Any word from the Capitol?" Gren asked him, "Of the war?"

"War's over," he said, "Aegon is King and he's sending reinforcements as promised. Dragonstone is mining dragonglass as quick as it can, all we can do is wait."

"Will you send more men out?" Gren asked.

"No," Benjen shook his head, "no more ranging until we're better manned and equipped."

"Will it come to a war? When the winter comes?" Gren looked panicked.

"We have the Wall on our side," Benjen said; "we can push back whatever threatens it; living or dead."

* * *

**A/N: **Another one down, hope you enjoyed it! More soon.

:)


	68. New Arrivals

**A/N: **New chapter for you all! Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

**Guest: **Haha, I'm glad you liked that. It was a little petty but still rather amusing (although not from Olyvar's point of view!)

Here we go!

:)

* * *

**New Arrivals**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Robb laughed out in relief as he heard the crying come from inside his and Dany's chambers, Arya's hand coming to his shoulder and squeezing hard. Gods. He was a father, just like that. It had seemed like hours that he had been out in the hallway, the Maester had told him to step out once Dany's waters had broken and he had spent the time frantically pacing until giving up and seating himself on the floor next to Arya. Hearing Dany in so much pain had torn at his heart but his guilt was eased now as he listened to the cries that were slowly calming. He imagined the baby in her arms and he wondered if it was a son as she had been so certain of. Gods, he hoped someone would come out to him soon, he could barely stand the waiting. He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to see his baby. Almost as he thought that the door opened and he struggled up to his feet, looking expectantly towards Adele as she beamed at him. "A healthy boy," she told him, "and Dany is just fine. Exhausted but fine, and waiting for you."

"Thank you," Robb breathed out, his hand coming to run through his hair. Adele merely smiled in response, coming to his side and squeezing her hand lightly around his upper arm for a moment. "Congratulations," she told him, "he's just perfect." Robb could only repeat his thanks, his eyes sliding to Arya's for a moment. "Well go on then!" his sister said almost impatiently and he did as he was told, moving towards the chamber door and slowly letting himself in. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him, Dany did indeed look exhausted but utterly beautiful as she lay propped up against the pillows with a bundle in her arms. She sent him a beaming smile and he somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other until he reached the side of the bed, resting his knee on it so he could lean over her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead which was still clammy, his hand coming to the blankets to move them aside slightly. "Perfect," he murmured, his eyes finding his son's, "both of you … just perfect."

"Hold him," Dany said softly and he obliged her at once, carefully shifting the tiny little thing out of her arms. "He looks just like you," she continued on then as he gazed in wonder at the incredible little creature that was half him and half Dany. "You're in there too," he said after a moment, "the shape of his eyes, even his mouth." At first glance the baby was unmistakeably his son, with his dark auburn hair and the shape of his nose. Looking closer he could see Dany, he could see her all too clearly. "Thank you," he said then, lifting his eyes to meet his wife's, "you are so incredible, what you went through to deliver him," he shook his head slightly, trying not to remember her moans of pain. "He's worth it, just like they promised me he would be," she smiled widely and Robb could only return the gesture, his attention going back to the baby in his arms as he started to grumble. "Hungry no doubt," Dany said and he moved back towards her as she adjusted her night dress so she could free one of her breasts.

Robb shifted their son back into her arms then and she hushed him gently, her fingers coming to stroke tenderly down his cheek as she encouraged him to her breast. He seemed uncooperative at first and she frowned slightly, wondering if she was doing it wrong. In the next moment he latched onto her though and she smiled widely as he began feeding greedily from her, his tiny, perfect little hand coming to rest on the swell of her breast. She could barely take her eyes from him. He was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen and it was easy to ignore the ache that throbbed between her thighs as she held him in her arms. Robb came to settle on the bed next to her then and she smiled as he draped his arm about her shoulder and squeezed lightly. In the next moment one of his fingers came to stroke tenderly down the back of the baby's hand. "I can't believe how tiny he is," he said in an almost disbelieving tone. "He may well be but he's a strong little thing, I can tell," Dany told him certainly and he pressed a kiss to her temple in response. "I love you," he told her firmly then and she smiled even more widely. "I love you," she returned, "I always have."

* * *

Dany reclined back in the tub, letting the hot water soothe all her aches and pains away. The Maester had left some milk of the poppy for her but she had no desire to take it yet, not when all she wanted to do was wonder over her baby boy. Robb was wondering over him now, she could hear the creak of the floorboards as he paced slowly up and down with him, his voice quiet as he told him the story of Brandon the Builder. Dany smiled and closed her eyes in contentment, Robb's soothing tones just as relaxing to her as the water that was swirling around her. Gods, she could still scarcely believe it. Believe that she was a mother. It was madness but the most beautiful, overwhelming madness that she had ever experienced. It wasn't so long ago that all of this had seemed impossible, when she had been certain that Robb would not return her feelings and certain that even if he did that they would never be allowed to be. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that she would be allowed to be his wife and be the mother to his children. Now she was both of those things and she smiled widely as she opened her eyes again.

Robb seemed to have stopped pacing but she could still hear him murmuring things to their new born son. As soothing as the water was she now wanted nothing more than to pull herself out of it and join her boys. She carefully got up and climbed out, wrapping a towel around her and drying herself gently before she pulled on her robe and tied her damp hair back with a leather thong. When she was done she emerged from behind the screen and smiled at the sight of Robb lain on his side on the bed with their baby next to him. He had his back to her and she approached silently, he seemed to be testing out names on their son and it made her smile even more widely.

"Your mother has banned Rickard and Brandon," Robb was saying, "which is likely a good thing since you have an uncle Rickon and an uncle Bran." Their son gurgled in a slightly frustrated manner then which made Robb chuckle. "Do you not like them either?" he asked, his hand coming to gently stroke the baby's head. "What about Torrhen?" he tried, "Jon? No … not Jon …" he mused, "Benjen? How about Eddard like your grandfather?" Again the little frustrated gurgle came from the baby and Robb sighed as Dany placed her hand on his shoulder and scooted onto the bed behind him. "How about a name all his own?" she asked him with a raised brow. "What do you have in mind?" he asked her.

"I would like to honour your father, after all he has done for me," she told him and he smiled widely, "so how about Edric?"

"Edric," Robb repeated slowly, his eyes going back to their son for a long moment; "Edric Stark, what do you think to that?"

The baby waved an arm in response and Robb and Dany slid their eyes back to one another and shared a beaming smile. "Edric Stark," they both agreed as one.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa tried to keep the shake out of her hand as she placed another stitch into her needlework, glancing over at Aegon who was sat at the table pretending to read over some missives from his council. She knew he was pretending, his eyes hadn't moved from the same spot in so long. Val was in labour and all they could do was wait in silence because she didn't trust herself to say anything and she imagined that he felt the same way. She added another stitch then, hearing Aegon sigh heavily in the next moment and moving her eyes back to him. "Are you worried?" she finally asked him and he moved his eyes to hers, seemingly considering her for a long moment. "I just want everything to be alright," he said after a pause and she nodded slowly. "There is no reason it shouldn't be, there are skilled Maester's here," she told him and it was his turn to nod. "I know," he said, contemplating her for another moment before crossing to sit next to her on the sofa. She let her needlework drop to her lap then, reaching out her hand for his as he moved his to take hers. They shared a small smile before averting their eyes from one another.

"I wish I knew how this was going to work," he said after a moment.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"You can't have three people in a marriage Sansa, not if you want a happy one," he said.

"There are two people in our marriage," she replied.

"I am going to share a child with another woman, that won't go away," he sighed.

"You promised to be a father, that has nothing to do with you and me," she said.

"How are you so understanding of this?" he looked utterly confused as she turned to face him.

"I grew up believing my father had fathered another child with another woman but I always saw my mother love Jon. She never looked at him any differently than she did her true children, he was her son as much as Robb or Bran or Rickon. I saw how much love she had for my father and all of us and we were always taught that Jon was no less important than us," she told him, "I know it's not entirely the same, this baby will have a mother where Jon had none. I won't need to fill that void but that doesn't mean I can't be good to them, that doesn't mean that I will blame them. I don't blame you Aegon so what makes you think I could blame an innocent child?"

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking his head.

"I wish you would stop saying that as well," she said, shaking her own; "you're not a bad man Aegon, you fell in love with someone you shouldn't have. We had never even laid eyes on one another … stop punishing yourself because I won't."

"Did you love another?" he asked then and she started.

"What?" she whispered, panic rising in her now as he fixed his searching eyes on her.

"Olyvar Frey?" he said softly, "I'm not so foolish I can't see it you know, the way he looks at you."

"He shouldn't," she said dismissively.

"There was something between you," he stated but he didn't look angry and she frowned slightly.

"It was nothing," she shook her head.

"Did you meet him at the Twins?" Aegon coaxed her.

"Riverrun," she said shortly, "he was my uncle's squire."

"He courted you?" he raised his brows and she shrugged slightly.

"In a fashion I suppose," she said, "but then none of it matters now because I was promised to you and I'm your wife."

"Did you love him?" Aegon repeated his earlier question.

"I don't know," she shook her head, her eyes welling with tears; "I'm not sure what it is to feel that kind of love. I thought I should love Joffrey, my perfect Prince but he turned into a monster who tormented me. Olyvar was kind to me after that, I confess I was drawn to him and his goodness, he was gentle and kind in a way Joffrey never could be. I wanted that, I needed that when I was away from my family. Then I was promised to you … I ought to love you …"

"But you don't?" he said softly.

"I don't know how I feel," she shook her head, "I only know I care for you very much …"

"I care for you too, you know that don't you?" he whispered, his hand coming to cup her cheek.

"I do," she nodded and he encouraged her forward, bending his head to claim her lips.

Their lips moved so perfectly together and Sansa couldn't help but shift closer to him, his hand hesitantly coming to rest low on her thigh as he twisted his body towards her. She let her own hands rest on his shoulders as he deepened their kiss, her stomach tying in knots. He hadn't bed her since their wedding night, only sleeping by her side and holding her in his arms. She was content like that and felt safe with him but she knew it was her duty to give him more. He had to bed her so she could conceive a child, give him a Prince and secure the succession. His hand slid further up her thigh then and he pulled away from her lips, his breathing ragged as his eyes sought hers and held them fast. "Can I take you to bed Sansa?" he asked her and she swallowed hard, nodding her head slowly and seeing the relief in his eyes. He stood then and held out his hand which she took after a moment, rising up to her own feet. His hand twitched around hers and she managed a smile, the warmth of his hand enclosed around hers making her feel inexplicably safe. A knock came on the door then and he snapped his eyes to it at once before dropping her hand and moving towards it. He wrenched it open and Sansa saw him almost visibly falter.

"Your daughter, your Grace," a woman's voice came and Sansa breathed in sharply.

"I wasn't expecting …" Aegon trailed off in an almost dazed manner.

"The Lady Val asked me to bring her to you," the woman replied.

"Thank you," Aegon said faintly.

He inched closer to Val's attendant then and shifted the little bundle gently out of her arms, his eyes seeking out the baby's face. A smile quirked at his lips then as she grumbled slightly, her face scrunching up as she blinked up at him. "Does she need anything?" he asked the attendant as he rocked her slightly in his arms. "She has been fed your Grace," she told him, "likely she will be fine for a little while without her mother." Aegon could only nod then, turning back to enter his chambers, his eyes flickering from the baby in his arms to his wife who had reclaimed her spot on the sofa. Her eyes were shining slightly as he looked at her and he felt the needle of guilt in his gut mingling with his feelings of euphoria. He let his eyes go back to the baby then, seeing her eyes fluttering closed as he took in her tiny features. She looked like her mother for the most part, but the fine hair on her head was unmistakably Targaryen. "How is Val?" he turned to ask her attendant then and she smiled. "Quite well your Grace," she answered him, "tired but well."

"Would you give her a message from me?" he asked.

"Of course your Grace," she said.

"Would you tell her that I remember what she said and I will respect it … tell her thank you … for my daughter," he said.

"I will tell her your Grace," she promised.

"Perhaps you ought to return her to Val … it looks as though she is ready for sleep," he said regretfully, turning to hand her back.

"As you wish your Grace," she said, taking her gently.

"May I see her tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"I should think so your Grace, I will have her brought to you," she smiled sympathetically.

"Thank you," he said gratefully and she curtseyed for him before turning to leave the room.

Aegon watched her go with an almost longing look on his face before he turned back to face his wife. "I'm sorry," he said, the only thing he could think to say, "I had no idea she would just be brought here like that, are you alright?" he questioned, coming towards her and hesitantly sitting down next to her. "Of course I am," she smiled, taking his hand, "and you?" He smiled, shaking his head slightly as he tried to find the right words. "I can't believe it," he said in a dazed manner, "something so tiny and perfect … I could scarce believe she was real, even when she was in my arms."

"I'm happy for you," Sansa told him, meeting his eyes.

"Would you … would you be there tomorrow when she comes again?" he asked.

"If you'd like," she smiled.

"Only if you want to," he stressed and she squeezed his hand.

"That baby is part of your family, as I am now," she said, "I know I will not be her mother but she will be sister to my own children one day."

"You'll allow that?" he raised his brows hopefully.

"Did you not listen to a word I said earlier?" she asked him in an almost exasperated manner.

"Yes of course I did, I just …" he trailed off.

"Just thought I would change my mind when it all became a reality?" she supplied and he nodded.

"I suppose," he agreed.

"I meant what I said," she stressed, "she is part of our family and I accept that."

* * *

Val thanked her attendant as she left her alone with her daughter, cradling the little bundle in her arms and just wondering at her for the longest time. Wondering over her future and what would be best for her, what she would have to do to make it bearable for both of them. She almost snorted then, her solution would not be bearable for her she knew that much. But for her daughter … surely it was the best thing. Even if it broke her heart surely it would be the best thing for her daughter. Aegon could give her everything. Her attendant had described how he was with her and her heart was reassured that he would love her. Even when his true children came along surely he would love his first born daughter? Val wanted to look him in the eyes then. She wanted him before her promising her that their baby would always have a place in his heart, no matter what. The baby gurgled in her arms then, wriggling her tiny body slightly and Val smiled down on her sadly before lifting her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you sweetheart," she breathed against her incredibly soft skin; "I love you with all my heart, always know that."

When she pulled back the baby's eyes were closed, her little chest rising evenly up and down. Val swallowed hard before shifting in the bed, carefully moving to the edge and climbing out. She crossed the vast chamber and lay the baby down in the ornate cradle that had been made for her. A gift from Aegon. A lavish thing, the first of many no doubt. Gods she hoped he wouldn't spoil her too much, just enough to know how loved she was. She gazed down on her sleeping daughter for a long moment before she moved gingerly towards the desk in the corner. The memory of her baby's birth was still throbbing between her thighs but she had survived it at least. Whether she would survive what came next she didn't know but she had to believe that it was the right thing. She settled herself down and slid a piece of parchment towards her, picking up the quill and dipping it in a pot of ink. The words came quicker than she had imagined they would, her feelings and reasons spilling out of her. She willed herself not to cry when she came to the end, begging him for one last thing.

Val folded it carefully once the ink was dry and sealed it, running her thumb over the blank wax as it dried, feeling it still warm under her touch. She slid another piece of parchment towards he then and wrote another letter, this one was harder but she did the best she could, hoping that the woman would take pity on her. When that too was folded and sealed she lay it aside before pulling a final piece of parchment towards her. This time she really did have to fight back the tears, each word she wrote on the page felt like a knife in her heart but she forced herself onwards. The words didn't seem like enough. She wasn't sure that all the words in the world would ever be enough but she had given all she could and this was the result. Perhaps she ought to read through it, but then she didn't think she could bear seeing them again. Writing it had been hard enough. She glanced towards her baby's cradle as she folded it up, her eyes stinging. She sealed it up and cast her eyes over the letters she had written before picking up the quill again and inking a name on each one of them. When she was done she stuffed them towards the back of the desk drawer and stood up to return to her bed. She sighed heavily when she was settled under the covers and prayed that the Gods would at least allow her to have a few hours of precious sleep.

* * *

_The Bloody Gate_

* * *

"Who goes there?!" the commanding voice came from atop the gates.

"Lord Eddard Stark," Ned called back, glancing at Catelyn and seeing the apprehension in her eyes.

"A moment!" the guard called after a time and he sighed heavily.

"What if she won't let us in?" Catelyn asked fearfully.

"I'm not sure if she's even in command anymore Cat," Ned said, shaking his head.

"Do you think it's as bad as the Vale Lords said?" she asked then.

"We can only hope not," he said and she nodded, worrying at her bottom lip.

Ned wished he had the right words to soothe her but he wasn't even sure if he should be soothing her or preparing her for the worst. The letters from the Vale Lords had been disturbing to say the least, and if half of it was true then Lysa was guilty of treason. Ned found his wife's hand then and she clung tightly to it as they waited. He grew more and more uneasy with each minute that passed without word from atop the gate and he could tell that his men behind him felt the same way but the way they were shifting from foot to foot and mumbling to one another. At this point he was starting to wish that they had left Bran back at the last inn with a guard. As it was their son was amongst the men, surrounded by capable fighters and that at least brought him a little bit of comfort. He was just about to suggest that they back away slightly from the gate when a sudden clanking sounded. Catelyn's hand twitched in his and he knew that she was just as surprised as he was that the gate was now opening up before him. Ned smiled in relief and recognition when Yohn Royce ambled out, a grim smile on his own face as he bowed shortly to Ned.

"Lord Stark," he greeted.

"Lord Royce," Ned inclined his own head.

"I'm glad to see you," Yohn said, nodding heavily, "come, I will escort you up to the Eyrie."

"How is my sister?" Catelyn asked worriedly then as Ned commanded his men to follow on.

"In truth, not well my Lady, not well at all," he shook his head.

"And her son?" she pressed him.

"Out of control," he said with a sigh, "my Lady Arryn could keep him in line to a certain extent but without her influence he is wreaking havoc."

"In what way?" Ned asked with a frown.

"He has had three men from the prison through the moon door this week alone," Yohn told them.

"By the Gods," Catelyn closed her eyes in despair.

"Just petty criminals," Yohn shook his head, "a pickpocket, a man who stole a loaf for his children and a man who had a drunken brawl."

"Hardly reason to put a man to death," Ned said stonily.

"No my Lord," Yohn agreed with him.

"Does Lysa know of this?" Catelyn asked him.

"We have begged her to come out for the sake of the boy but she will not leave her chambers. She has not come out since Lord Baelish's death," he told them.

"Petyr was right," Catelyn whispered to Ned then and he nodded grimly; "by the Gods Ned, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know Cat," he shook his head, "best we get up to the Eyrie first, then we can try and sort out this mess and I can only pray we succeed, because Aegon cannot stand by and watch one of his Kingdom's crumble away. He will supplant the Arryns if he has to."

* * *

**A/N: **Awwwww, babies! Hope you enjoyed, more soon!

:)


	69. Divisions

**A/N: **Another one for you guys. News is I'm away until Friday so no more updates until then. That goes for all my fics so anyone who is waiting on Butterfly Effect as well, I'm afraid it will be a bit of a wait. Back to normal from Friday though so hopefully you can be patient!

Hope you enjoy this one anyway and I'll catch you all on Friday!

:)

* * *

**68\. Divisions**

* * *

_The Eyrie_

* * *

"Where's the boy?" Ned asked as they followed Lord Royce down the hallway towards the main hall.

"Abed if we are lucky," Lord Royce replied and Ned nodded grimly; "What does the King plan?"

"He does not wish to make any drastic changes to his Kingdoms so soon into his reign, that said, if these reports are true I have leave to make other arrangements for the Vale," Ned told him.

"Other arrangements?" Lord Royce asked him as they came to the doors.

"Yes," Ned said simply and the man merely nodded before opening the doors.

"I convened the other Vale Lords yesterday, they signed this," he said, slipping a piece of parchment from his doublet and handing it to Ned.

He unfurled it at once and read down the contents, a heavy sigh leaving him. What was written did not surprise him. The Lords all favoured the deposition of Robin Arryn and his mother, expressing concerns about their capacity to govern properly and within the laws of the seven kingdoms. Ned nodded slowly, before meeting Lord Royce's eyes, the man the others backed to take control of the Vale in place of the Arryns. "I would meet them myself," Ned told him, "but this seems in order. Right now I would see Lady Arryn."

"Yes my Lord," Lord Royce agreed, "if she will see you."

"She will see me whether she likes it or not," Catelyn spoke up at his side and he took her hand at once, squeezing reassuringly.

"Then please, come," Lord Royce invited, leading the way from the main hall and down towards where Ned knew the family resided.

Gods, he hoped if Jon Arryn could see him now that he would understand. His eyes slid to Catelyn now, his mind troubling over something else that Littlefinger had divulged to Aegon. He had yet to mention it to Catelyn, thinking that the man may have just said it out of sheer spite. Now that everything else he had said about the Eyrie seemed to have turned out to be incredibly true he wasn't so sure he could ignore it. Lord Royce came to a halt at one of the highly polished doors and rapped his knuckles firmly against the wood. "I know you do not wish to be disturbed my Lady, but your sister has come to you," Lord Royce called through the door and after several moments of silence there was a hint of movement heard on the other side of the door. "Cat?" Lysa's shaking voice came a moment later and Ned looked towards his wife. "I'm here Lysa," she said gently, "please let me in … I beg of you, it has been too long." There was silence again and Ned held his breath, only letting it out when he heard the lock slide across. "Only Cat," Lysa's voice came again and Catelyn nodded her agreement to both Ned and Lord Royce. "Only me," she agreed then, reaching for the door knob. "Cat wait," Ned murmured, his hand enclosing around her wrist; "there is something else," he whispered into her ear, "it has been said it was her who gave Jon Arryn the poison," he finished and her eyes widened as he pulled back from her. "Be careful Cat," he implored her and she nodded numbly before turning back towards the door.

* * *

Lysa was stood facing the door when Catelyn let herself in, closing it firmly behind her and appraising the sister she had not seen in so long. "Lysa," she tried her best to smile but her hands were shaking as she took in her appearance. She was thinner than Catelyn had ever seen anyone, her skin almost grey and her hair as well. This was not the plump, smiling sister that she remembered. Lysa was her junior but at this moment she could have been over twenty years her senior. Catelyn swallowed hard and took another step towards her. "They killed my Petyr," Lysa said, her eyes darting about the place, "would they kill me too Cat? Would they?!" Catelyn shook her head and tentatively reached her hand out to her but Lysa backed away several paces, shaking her own head. "Petyr did some terrible things Lysa," Catelyn said and her sister's eyes flashed with anger and hurt, her finger coming to point at her accusingly. "Jealous," she spat, "jealous that it was me he took … bitter at your own fate up there in the cold North!"

"My fate is a loving husband and children and a beautiful home and I thank the Gods for them every day," Catelyn shot back, "what happened to you Lysa?"

"You really don't know?" she laughed without humour and Catelyn was instantly unnerved.

"No," Catelyn shook her head, her brow creasing in confusion.

"You don't know why Petyr was sent away from Riverrun?" Lysa went on.

"Because he shamed father by challenging Brandon, that is why -," she was cut off by another cold laugh.

"You thought it was all about you!" Lysa shrieked, "As it always was! No Catelyn … he was sent away for getting me with child. Father should have let me marry him, he should have let me! But instead he forced moon tea down my throat and married me to a man even older than himself! And you! You got everything didn't you, even a wedding night baby. A precious son … oh you've been blessed haven't you Cat … but not me … not me …"

"You have a son," Catelyn whispered, her eyes stinging as Lysa sank down to her knees.

"He's cursed!" she wailed then and Catelyn took a few more tentative steps towards him.

"Don't be silly," Catelyn hushed her, dropping to her own knees and hesitantly embracing her sister.

"My punishment!" she choked out, clinging to Catelyn so tightly that it was almost painful.

"For what?" Catelyn whispered, part of her not wanting to know the answer.

"It was the right thing that's what he said … we could finally be together if I did as he asked and I did. I did everything he asked but still he left me … why Cat, why?!" Lysa sobbed.

"What did you do Lysa?" Catelyn asked her.

"Jon," she choked out, "it was no fever … it was me Cat, I'm sorry, I'm sorry please forgive me …"

Catelyn had nothing to say, she merely held her sister closer as she broke down completely in her arms. She felt utterly numb. She had not expected what Ned had told her and she had expected her sister's admission even less. "Your son needs you," she finally murmured, "he is out of control Lysa, something needs to be done … he cannot continue to rule the Vale as he has been. You know what he has done, the Lords have told you. It needs to stop Lysa," she told her firmly and Lysa nodded against her, tears soaking through the shoulder of her dress now. "I will die for this," Lysa whispered, "what will happen to him then?"

"The King may show mercy given everything … if you cooperate then perhaps you and Robin could be placed under house arrest," Catelyn told her.

"Robin too?" Lysa choked out, "He's just a boy Cat …"

"He is a Lord and he has abused his position, the punishment could be worse Lysa, you know it could," she told her firmly and her sister pulled away again.

"What do I have to do? Tell me what to do Cat!" Lysa said desperately.

"Come with me, make a confession to Ned and the Vale Lords and he will send it to the King and plea for mercy. Robin will be deposed but if you both cooperate then your lives will be spared, you will live in comfort but under guard," Cat told her, meeting her eyes.

"What if he does not show mercy?" Lysa asked her fearfully.

"We are all kin in one way or another … we have to have faith in one another," she told her gently and Lysa nodded slowly, her hands coming to wipe her tears away.

"I'll do it," Lysa said quietly but determinedly after a moment and Catelyn smiled for her, rising up to her own feet and leading the way to the door.

"Be strong Lysa," she encouraged her as they made their way out.

Catelyn took her sister's hand as they walked down the deserted hallway. She had been surprised when Ned was no longer there but she imagined that her husband had wanted to give her time alone with her sister; he was always so thoughtful that way. Lysa's hand squeezed around hers more tightly as they came to the doors of the main hall, a frown creasing Catelyn's forehead when the sounds of commotion reached their ears. She shared a look with her sister, seeing Lysa's eyes were not as confused as she had thought they would be. A sick feeling crept into her stomach then and she dropped her sister's hand, barrelling through the doors into the main hall and stopping dead at the scene that greeted her. A boy she imagined to be Robin was stood in the middle of the chaos in his nightclothes, not a flicker of emotion on his face. Bodies littered the place and both sides seemed to have frozen in their act at Catelyn's entrance.

Her eyes sought Ned out, finding him just as he was roughly seized from behind, his sword clattering to the floor. She was at once terrified and thankful that they had not brought Bran up with them, Gods she hoped he was safe down there. Ned had left guards with him but none of them had expected this to happen. She looked towards him desperately then, seeing him being pushed towards the centre of the hall. "No!" she shouted out, knowing exactly what he was being led to. "Did you really think you could just come here and depose us?" Lysa asked then and Catelyn shook her head as Ned struggled against his captors. "Unhand me!" he demanded, "When word of this reaches the King you will be destroyed, see sense now and we can resolve this peacefully!"

"Listen to him Lysa for the love of the Gods!" Catelyn cried out, "Please! If you ever had any love for me then let my husband go!"

"You took the man I love," Lysa said venomously.

"I didn't," Catelyn shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"It was always _you!" _she screamed out, "I gave him everything and yet it was still your name he uttered after I gave myself to him entirely!"

"I'm sorry Lysa I am!" Catelyn said desperately, her eyes darting between her sister and Ned, "But he didn't love me … Petyr, he didn't … it was you he wanted, he told me so before he died. He told me to tell you he loved you … that he was sorry …"

"Liar!" Lysa screamed at her and she flinched.

"Make him fly!" Robin called out in a triumphant manner then and one of his men moved to pull open the moon door.

"No!" Catelyn shouted out again; "There will be no coming back from this! Let him go you fools, can you not see you are signing your own death warrants?!"

"No one can touch us up here," Lysa said then, her eyes as cold as ice, "nothing can touch the Eyrie."

"Lysa please …" Catelyn shook her head, a sob escaping her as the hatch was opened.

"Now you'll know how it feels," she said venomously.

"Ned!" Catelyn shouted towards him then, making to move to him but being pulled back; "Ned I love you! I love you! I love you!" she sobbed over and over.

"I love you Cat," he returned, his eyes welling with tears as he was moved to the edge.

"I will never ever stop!" she promised him and he nodded his own head.

Catelyn was pulled roughly aside then and she cried out as her body fell to the floor, gasping as the wind was knocked out of her and desperately trying to push herself up so she could fix her eyes on Ned again. Her breathing came sharply as a scream of fury sounded, followed by the sounds of hundreds of armoured footsteps. She pushed herself up, desperately looking for Ned, seeing men at the moon door, pulling on the lever to close it again. The sigils belonged to the Royces and in the next moment Lord Royce himself was above her, holding his hand out to help her to her feet. "I'm sorry my Lady," he said, "I hope you are not too badly hurt, we didn't want to risk you being caught in the crossfire," he continued, "sorry we took so long." She stared at him in a daze then, a hiccough leaving her as she blinked, trying to make sense of everything. "Ned?" she finally managed to whisper.

"I'm right here Cat," his voice sounded and her knees gave out beneath her. "I've got you," he murmured, grabbing under her arms and pulling her against his chest, her hands clinging to him as he held her more tightly then she had ever remembered being held by anyone. "I've got you," he repeated, pressing firm kisses to the top of her head. "Lysa?" she managed after a moment and he kissed her again. "They've been taken to their chambers and placed under heavy guard," he told her and she pulled away slightly from him, seeing the pity in his eyes and she knew what was coming. "There will be no mercy after this Cat," he told her quietly and she swallowed hard before slowly nodding her head. "I know," she whispered before he pulled her tightly back into his arms.

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Your Grace," every man present bowed shortly to Aegon and he nodded to them, gesturing for them to take their seats as he himself sat down at the head of the council table. Now things had settled down somewhat he was ready to appoint them all permanently to his council, knowing now exactly who he wanted around him. He smiled slightly to himself as they settled down around him, leaning forwards slightly in his chair as they all looked expectantly towards him. "My council," he smiled more widely, "should you all accept the positions I have for you," he went on, his eyes sliding to Griff. "Ser Jon Connington shall be my Hand," he said, meeting the man's eyes and holding them fast for a long moment. "I am honoured your Grace," Griff returned and he nodded slightly, hearing the emotion in the older man's voice. "Lord Varys, I would ask you to continue your services," Aegon slid his eyes to the eunuch then and he bowed his head. "An honour, your Grace," he smiled and again Aegon nodded. "Maester Bramwell," he nodded towards him, "Willas Tyrell," another nod, "I would appoint you as advisors."

"Thank you your Grace," Willas said gratefully and Aegon smiled at him.

"Yes indeed your Grace," the Maester bowed his own head.

"Master of Coin," Aegon said slowly, his eyes roving around them, "Tyrion Lannister."

"An honour," Tyrion said in a dazed manner and Aegon smiled slightly at the surprised looks on some of the faces of the others.

"Jon," Aegon looked towards his brother; "you will depart soon but before you do I would bestow Summerhall on you. Likely you will be content to install a steward there until such time your first son comes of age."

"Yes," Jon nodded, "thank you, your Grace."

"You are my brother, Summerhall is yours by rights. There is a favour I would ask in return though …"

"Anything," Jon said at once and Aegon smiled.

"I would not trouble you to be a permanent member of the council, but if I could trouble you to sit with us on occasion … perhaps every three moons?" Aegon raised his brows.

"Of course your Grace," Jon smiled back at him and he felt instant relief.

"I would ask the same of you uncle, if you are willing?" he turned to Oberyn then.

"Of course your Grace," his uncle echoed Jon's words, "though I shall not be leaving for Dorne until certain matters are resolved."

"Of course," Aegon said, knowing he was referring to the Mountain.

"If it is Gregor Clegane you speak of, I have heard rumour that he has retreated to his seat and barred all entrants," Varys spoke up.

"I cannot act on rumour alone my Lord," Aegon said, "I need fact."

"I will endeavour to deliver it," Varys bowed his head.

"The Wall," Aegon said then and several of the men around him grimaced.

"Forces have been sent, would you do more?" Oberyn asked him.

"I fear the wildling threat was nothing compared with what we will be faced with when winter truly arrives," Aegon said.

"Walkers?" Willas frowned slightly and Jon nodded along with Aegon.

"We may soon be dragged into another war," he said.

"Can we win such a thing? Against such creatures?" the Maester asked.

"We are mining dragonglass and forging weapons as quickly as we can," Griff said.

"But there is more we could do to help the Watch," Aegon said, his eyes flickering to Jon.

"What do you have in mind?" his brother asked him.

"Dragons," he said.

"Forgive me your Grace … I do not think they affect the walkers," the Maester piped up.

"The walkers are not the only threat. They reanimate the dead, huge armies of wights risen up that far outstrip the number of those who create them," Tyrion spoke up.

"He's right," Aegon confirmed, "we have several reports from the Night's Watch of sightings and encounters of them, far more common than the walkers. And, easier to kill if you have a plentiful supply of fire."

"Are the dragons big enough?" Oberyn asked almost lazily.

"Viserion dispatched several Ironborn himself," Aegon nodded, "and he is the smallest of the three."

"And they have grown in size since then," Jon added.

"Can you control them?" the Maester asked worriedly.

"Yes," both Jon and Aegon said at once.

"Perhaps we ought to write to the Lord Commander?" Griff raised a brow.

"I'll leave it in your capable hands," Aegon nodded as a knock sounded on the door; "come!"

It was Loras and he bowed lowly before approaching, holding out a letter to Aegon which he took at once with thanks. Loras merely bowed again before retreating from the room, the door closing firmly behind him. Aegon could feel the eyes of his council on him as he read through the letter, a heavy sigh leaving him when he reached the end. "It seems we will have company on the morrow," he said, "Jaime Lannister will escort Victarion Greyjoy up to the keep just after dawn."

* * *

Sansa jumped as someone pounded on the door, wondering why her guards were letting such a thing happen. She inched nervously towards it before slowly opening it, coming face to face with one of Val's attendants. The girl looked absolutely terrified and seemed to be shaking slightly as she held out three letters to her. "What is this?" Sansa asked, her eyes roving between her and her guard. "Sorry my Queen," he guard spoke up at once, "the lady claims it is urgent … that she must see the King at once."

"The King is in council," she said firmly.

"Please my Queen," the shaking girl spoke up, "there is one for you as well."

"What is this?" Sansa asked again, almost snatching the letters from the girl.

"The Lady Val is gone," the girl told her and she snapped her eyes back to hers.

"And the baby?" she demanded.

"Just the Lady," the girl said and Sansa hurriedly sifted through the letters, sick understanding coming for her as she saw the names labelled on them; _Aegon, Queen Sansa _and _My daughter. _Her hands shook as she opened her own, hurriedly unfolding it, her eyes welling with tears as she took in every word. By the time she reached the end she was shaking her head. Gods. Aegon would lose his mind over this. She bit down hard on her bottom lip then. "My Queen?" her guard asked her in concern and she mentally shook herself. "You go back to the baby," she addressed the attendant who nodded furiously; "she is not to be left unattended for a moment do you understand me?"

"Yes my Queen," she nodded, bobbing into a curtsey before she fled down the hallways.

"We are going to the King," Sansa addressed her guard then before she picked up her skirts and almost ran down the hallways, his clanking footsteps behind her telling her that he was keeping up with her quickening pace. When she reached the doors of Aegon's council chambers she burst right through, forgetting all about courtesy and propriety. His council all stood at once, all of them bowing deeply to her and muttering their greetings. Aegon stood more slowly, his eyes finding hers. "I'm sorry," she said at once, "I ought not to disturb you like this but it is of great importance," she said, not moving her eyes from his and he nodded slowly. "Leave us," he said, "it is enough for today."

The scraping back of chairs met his ears then as he kept his eyes fixed on his wife, frowning slightly when he saw the parchment in her hands. He didn't move until the door closer, moving around the table at once and placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "What is it?" he asked her fearfully and he could see the apprehension in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, holding out a letter to him which he took, his frown deepening as he took in his name written in untidy scrawl. He was too scared to ask Sansa so he just broke the seal, unfolding the letter and swallowing hard as he began to read down it.

_Aegon,_

_This is the hardest thing I have ever had to do but I have to believe it is the right thing. I don't belong here, I never have and I never will. Being so close to you would kill me in the end. My heart feels like it will break but I know you can offer our daughter everything she deserves and more. You can offer her a safe home, an education and if the Gods are good perhaps brothers and sisters. You will never know what it has cost me to leave her behind, but you are her best hope in this world. I love her with all my heart and that is why I have let her go. Promise me you will love her, always cherish her I beg of you. I know she is not a true daughter but she is yours all the same. Tell her about me when she is old enough, I pray that she will understand that I did it for her. Tell her how much I love her, how much I will always love her. Keep her safe Aegon, and I beg you, don't come looking for me. Let me go Aegon, please._

_Val_

"She's gone," he said disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry," Sansa whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

"What are these?" he asked, his hand coming to tug the other letters from her.

"One was for me," she told him.

"What did it say?" he asked, meeting her eyes.

"She asked that I be the mother she couldn't be," Sansa said, her voice shaking as a tear escaped her.

"How could she do this?" he shook his head disbelievingly, his thumb coming to brush against the seal of the last letter. _My daughter._

"Don't," Sansa stilled his hand, shaking her head; "that is for your daughter, for her to have when she's ready. You can't read that Aegon, promise me you won't."

"I just don't understand," he shook his head again, his own eyes stinging.

"I know," she whispered, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry," she pulled him into her arms and he clung tightly to her, letting her embrace surround him, wanting to lose himself in her comfort. "I know it will be hard Aegon," she said, her hand stroking through his hair; "but it's done now, you have to let her go."

* * *

**A/N: **I know some of you suspected what Val was up to. Hope you enjoyed! More Friday.

:)


	70. New Promises

**A/N: **Hey guys, I'm baaaack!

**Dany Snow: **Sorry to disappoint with the pairings! I appreciate it's not what you're looking for and I know you probably won't read this but I wanted to thank you anyway for the compliments on the writing!

**Guest: **You left your review on chapter one so I have no idea if you will see this. I was rather confused by your comment, I am well aware that Daenerys is Aerys' daughter, I'm not sure if you thought I was implying otherwise? I know this fic is AU but I certainly haven't changed her parentage!

**Boramir: **I know, she is completely nuts (and her son isn't much better), obviously her "plan" would never have worked even if Ned had gone flying but as you said, you know why I wrote it that way! Thank you very much, great name ;)

Right-ho folks, on with the new chapter!

:)

* * *

**New Promises**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jon watched as Margaery wrapped her robe around her and padded towards the other side of the room to pick Steffon up out of his cradle, murmuring to him in her soothing voice. He reclined further back against the pillows and sighed heavily, his eyes slowly blinking as she brought Steffon to their bed and deposited him at Jon's side. The sun was just about creeping up above the horizon and he ran his hand through his hair, knowing that the Ironborn would soon be arriving. He wondered how Aegon was going to cope, if he could stay calm and measured as he should after the events of the previous day. Jon could feel Margaery's sympathetic eyes on him then and he turned to look at her as Steffon threw himself towards him. He stilled the baby, coming to hold him against his chest before looking back towards his wife. In all the furore over Val leaving he had neglected to tell her that he had accepted a position on Aegon's council. It was not a permanent one but it would mean he would have to be apart from her several times each year when he had promised her she would never have to sleep alone again.

"What is it?" she asked softly and he sighed, "Something's bothering you," she continued.

"Aegon asked me to take a seat on his council," he told her and her brows raised; "not a permanent one, just every three moons."

"I see," she said lightly, "I suppose I'm not surprised, it is natural he would want his brother's support."

"I made you a promise on our wedding day," he said then, his brow furrowing.

"Jon, don't fret over something so small," she shook her head, a smile coming to grace her lips; "it isn't important, this right here is important."

She moved closer to him and he stretched the arm that wasn't holding Steffon against him out so she could snuggle up against his side. Her own hand came to lay on Steffon's back as Jon turned his head to press a kiss to her forehead. "He's asleep again," she said softly after a moment, "I don't know what it is you do but somehow you always manage to calm him." Jon smiled at her words, tightening his grip on her slightly. "I cannot wait for us to have more, fill Storm's End with them," he told her after a moment and she lifted her head up so she could meet his eyes. "Truly?" she asked him and his smile widened. "Of course," he said, "why? Do you have something to tell me?" he teased her and she swatted him lightly and shook her head. "Not as yet husband," she teased back, "perhaps we ought to try a little harder?"

"If that's even possible," Jon said mischievously.

"It might be a challenge," she conceded, "especially with him around," her eyes flickered to Steffon.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he said proudly.

"And I know you mean that," she nodded, "and it makes me love you even more."

"If Aegon can cope then I was thinking we could leave at the end of the week," Jon said.

"As you wish," she smiled.

"I know you never wanted to come here," he said.

"I'm glad I did," she met his eyes, "even if my father has disowned me, it matters not. I have you and Steffon and my brothers. I need no one else."

"I love you Margaery," he held her gaze, "and that is a promise that I can swear to you that I will always keep."

* * *

Sansa watched worriedly as Aegon dressed himself in what she could only describe as an infuriated manner. Somehow she had managed to talk him out of sending guards after Val but now she was wondering if she had done the right thing. What if he blamed her? Began to resent her for it? She swallowed hard, feeling as though she could take no more, before she stood slowly and crossed to him, hesitating slightly before placing her hand on the small of his back. He jumped slightly, turning to face her, his doublet only half done up and laced up all the wrong way. "Perhaps you ought to delay meeting with Victarion Greyjoy?" she suggested lightly, meeting his eyes before she tentatively put her hands so his chest so she could right his doublet. "I can't," he shook his head, "if I offend him then any hope of ending the Ironborn threat peacefully is done." Sansa sighed then, threading his laces up for him nimbly. "I know," she said, shaking her head, "have you had any news from Pyke?" He shook his head again, his hands coming to rest on top of hers as she fastened the top of his doublet and made to move them away. "I need you with me today Sansa," he said softly, "I need my Queen by my side so I do not lose my head."

"I'll be with you I promise," she met his eyes, seeing the vulnerability in them.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he said, "truly Sansa … I just don't know what I'd do."

"Your clothing wrong for one thing," she smiled slightly and his own lips quirked up a little.

"Thank you," he said meaningfully and she nodded.

"Right," she said, tugging her hands lightly from his grip, "if I am to be by your side I ought to present myself as a Queen should."

"Yes," he agreed softly as she moved away to the dresser and opened it up to find something to wear.

* * *

Aegon tried to focus on the weight of Sansa's hand in the crook of his elbow and nothing else as they walked through the throne room. When they reached the matching wooden thrones they turned as one and her hand slipped into his as she lowered herself to her own gracefully. Regretfully Aegon let go of her hand then before seating himself and just waiting for the Ironborn to arrive. Hopefully it would be easily resolved. He had to repress a snort then. The way things were going for him it would be anything but. His eyes slid to Sansa then and she turned her own head and sent him an encouraging smile. At least he had her. Thank the Gods for her. The court announcer stood then and Aegon braced himself. "Presenting Victarion Greyjoy to you your Graces!" Everyone present in the throne room seemed to turn their heads to see the man enter. He was tall and dark and imposing, everything Aegon had assumed he would be. Two men flanked him but he could see that none of them were armed. Even without arms he imagined they would be able to kill a man with their bare hands should they wish. He glanced towards Loras then who was stood several paces behind Sansa and inclined his head slightly. His Kingsguard took a few steps closer to his wife then, his hand inching ever so slightly closer to his sword.

Aegon turned his attention back to Victarion Greyjoy then as the man came to a halt before him. He raised his brows expectantly then at the man who appeared to be sizing him up. What conclusion Victarion had come to he didn't know but in the next moment the man dropped down to one knee with surprising grace, his two men doing the same on his flanks. "Rise," Aegon said after a long moment, the silence in the throne room almost deafening as he appraised the dark man again. "So you've come to swear fealty," Aegon raised his brows expectantly and the Ironborn seemed to stand up a little straighter at his words. "I would offer you my sword," Victarion said, "but I was relieved of it on entering the keep." Aegon's lips twitched up slightly despite himself at his words, his fingertips drumming lightly on the arm of his throne. "Very good," he said after a moment, "but there is still the matter of Winterfell …" he trailed off and Victarion looked uneasy for the first time. "My brother was in command," he said after a moment.

"So the blame is his?" Aegon raised a brow, "You raised no objection?"

"I raised plenty objections, the bastard should never have come back from exile, but he was my brother, what could I do?" Victarion asked.

"You follow your brother over your King?" Aegon asked in return.

"There was no King we would recognise then," Victarion said.

"And now there is?" Aegon met his eyes.

"I knelt didn't I?" he said rather brashly and again Aegon's lips twitched up.

"I cannot ignore what you did to the North," Aegon said, "especially not with it being my Queen's family home you ravished."

"I see," Victarion said slowly, his eyes sliding towards Sansa for a moment.

"But my Queen is a forgiving woman," Aegon went on, "providing penance is paid I am willing to grant you pardon and instate you as Lord of the Iron Islands."

"Penance?" Victarion raised his brows.

"Volunteer a thousand of your men to the Wall," Aegon met his eyes, "they do not have to take the black but they will bend to the command of Benjen Stark."

"For how long your Grace?" Victarion asked him.

"Five years should suffice," Aegon said, "they will see plenty action, I can assure you of that."

"What of those with wives? Families?" he asked then.

"Choose those without," Aegon said simply and a faint smile graced the man's features.

"Those without," he repeated, almost chuckling as he shook his head.

"Do you agree?" Aegon asked.

"Is that your only condition?" Victarion asked.

"Your brother Balon will need to be deposed," Aegon said, "I would not ask you to dispatch him yourself. Some of my own men will travel to Pyke with you and escort him to the North, I believe Lord Stark deals with his own justice personally."

"Very well," Victarion said heavily and Aegon stood up and walked towards him.

"Cross the crown again and you will be destroyed," he said in an undertone, meeting Victarion's eyes as he held out his hand.

"I understand your Grace," Victarion replied, grasping his hand tightly for a moment.

* * *

Jeyne hurried up the stairs, almost running down the hallway towards her chamber when she reached the landing. When she burst through the door Jaime turned with a start and she could have cried in relief at seeing him there. "I've been looking all over for you!" she exclaimed as he crossed the room in a few wide strides and gathered her up into his arms. "I came up the back way, it's quicker that way, I thought you'd be here," he breathed his explanation against her hair as she clutched him close to her. "I went down to the yard, when you weren't there -," he cut her off with a kiss then as he pushed her back slightly from him and she felt as though she were melting as ever he made her feel. "How are the children?" she asked breathlessly when they finally wrenched away from one another. "Fine," he nodded, "desperate to have you back, just as I was." She smiled widely then, her hand coming up to his cheek, her thumb stroking him gently. "I love you," she said, meeting his eyes that lit up at her words. "I love you Jeyne," he returned and she leaned back into him, her head coming to rest against his chest so she could listen to his heart thudding evenly in her ear.

"Have you seen the King?" she asked him when she finally pulled away again.

"No, I came straight up to see you, why?" he frowned slightly.

"No reason," she shook her head slightly, "I just wondered how he seemed … but you don't know."

"Has something happened?" he asked her, his frown deepening.

"I'm just worried for Sansa, especially now Val has gone," she worried at her bottom lip.

"Gone?" he raised his brows.

"She left the baby, a little girl, and she left the Capitol," she told him.

"Gods," he said, looking vaguely stunned.

"I can't understand why she would do that," she shook her head.

"She doesn't belong here," he said simply.

"But … she's her daughter, surely -," she started.

"What prospects would her daughter have at the Gift?" he cut her off.

"She would have her mother," she said irritably.

"Sometimes it is better to let something go than cling on and destroy it," he said softly.

"Jaime -," she started again.

"I was never _allowed _to be a father to my children because it would have been the death of all of us," he said, shaking his head, "sometimes right and wrong blur. I let another man claim my children because I had to. Perhaps Val felt that she had to let her daughter go, perhaps she knew in the end it would be the best thing for her."

"Jaime," he brow furrowed as she looked into his eyes again, "it won't be like that if we have children will it? You won't be distant from them will you?"

"I hope not," he said, "but I cannot promise I will be a good father … I suppose I can only promise that I will do the very best I can should a child come to us."

"That's all I need," she smiled up at him, "I know you'll be wonderful Jaime, how could you not be?"

* * *

Margaery moved around the table, pouring tea for everyone, her eyes darting between Erinne and Willas nervously. Her brother had Steffon in his lap and she was worried how Erinne would react towards the sight. There was definitely sadness in the woman's eyes but overall she seemed relaxed and Margaery was placated, meeting Jon's eyes for a moment as she set the pot back down in the middle of the table. Willas looked up from fussing over Steffon then and smiled at her. She returned the gesture before picking up her cup and taking a sip from it. "Are you sure about this?" Willas asked then, meeting her eyes. "It seems the best solution for everyone, at least this way she will be at her family home and will still have contact with Erinne," Margaery replied.

"I told her about the betrothal," Erinne spoke up then, "she took it well, better than I thought she would at any rate."

"Good," Margaery smiled at her future good-sister.

"Shireen is a sweet girl," Erinne went on, "she will be no trouble to you, I am certain of that."

"It's preferable to her going all the way to Dorne or the North," Willas conceded then.

"We're happy to have her at Storm's End," Jon said, "she will grow up with family, perhaps it will go some way to repairing the Baratheon family after everything that's happened."

"We can only hope," Willas said, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked down at Steffon.

"He regretted what he did," Erinne said quietly, "Stannis did … I know he did."

"I'm sure," Margaery said rather stiffly and Jon reached over to take her hand.

"I'm not defending him," Erinne said quickly, "or what he did … I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's fine," Margaery shook her head, "all things happen for a reason," she squeezed Jon's hand; "but I will always regret that Steffon will never know his father."

"He will know _a _father," Willas said softly, his eyes glancing towards Jon.

"I know that," she nodded, smiling slightly.

"Have you seen much of Loras?" Willas asked then and she shook her head.

"It was fine at first," she said sadly, "but the more time he spent … I swear, he cannot bear it, being so near him," she looked towards her son who was chewing on his own fist.

"He is the very image of Renly," Willas nodded in understanding.

"It will get better, once he comes to terms with Renly's passing," Jon said quietly.

"He will mourn Renly forever," Margaery said bitterly.

"Don't feel guilty," Willas shook his head.

"I can't help it," she shook her own head; "I got it all didn't I? I was his Queen, I birthed his son, a piece of him that I can keep forever. And then, I can just walk away from it. I can come to terms with his death and find love with another whereas Loras … he is consumed by it, taking the white cloak because he knows he will never love again."

"That's not your fault," Jon told her firmly and she turned her head to look at him for a moment.

"Some time apart will perhaps do you good," Willas added.

"Perhaps," Margaery said distractedly, her eyes fixed on her son again; "or perhaps it will only serve to make things worse."

* * *

Aegon walked slowly towards the nursery, his head spinning after his meeting with Victarion Greyjoy and the subsequent council meeting he had had. Now he just wanted a few moments with his daughter, he just wanted to wonder at her for a little while and let himself forget about everything that was wrong in the world. He let himself in quietly, her nurses bobbing into curtseys for him as he entered the living area. His daughter, he assumed, was in the next chamber and so he wandered through, not letting his eyes slide to the bed where Val had slept. Instead he went to the cradle he had had crafted, a smile coming to his face when he looked down to see her awake, her bright eyes fixing on him. She kicked at her blankets then and he chuckled slightly before he bent down to scoop her up into his arms. He retreated to the window seat with her, rocking her gently as he looked out over the view of the Blackwater. He tried to regret what he had done but he couldn't, not when the perfect, warm weight of his daughter was nestled in his arms. She gurgled then and he turned his eyes back to her, seeing that her own were already starting to change colour, looking more violet now than the blue she had been born with. How long he wondered at her he didn't know, only raising his head when he heard voices in the next room.

"We were not expecting you my Queen," one of the attendants sounded flustered.

"I've merely come to make some arrangements," Sansa's voice answered and Aegon frowned slightly.

"Of course my Queen," he could imagine the blush on the girl's face.

"The little lady will move to chambers closer to the royal ones," Sansa said, "I am seeing to them being refurnished for her. How is she taking to her wet nurse?"

"Well my Queen," a different woman answered her this time.

"Her health?" Sansa asked.

"She is perfectly well my Queen, Maester Bramwell says she is thriving," came the answer.

"Very good," he could hear the smile in Sansa's voice and he got up slowly, coming to lay his daughter gently back in her cradle. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead before he turned away, moving to the door, feeling utterly overwhelmed by what he had just heard. Sansa had reassured him over and over but part of him had still been convinced that she would want little to do with his little girl and he would not have blamed her for it. Hearing that made it feel like a weight had been lifted from him and he felt even more sure about her now than he had on the day they had wed. She turned towards him and smiled when he entered the living area and he returned the gesture, marvelling over her. "My Queen," he greeted softly.

"I didn't know you were here your Grace," she replied.

"I was just leaving," he met her eyes, "would you join me?"

"I would be delighted," she said, taking his arm as he came to her side.

He led her down the hallways back to their own chambers then, his heart pounding wildly in his chest the whole time. Once they were inside he firmly closed the door on their guards and turned back to her, seeing her already looking at him. He crossed to her, coming to cup her face in his hands, her breath hitching in her throat as he did so. "I don't know what I did so right that the Gods would see fit to bless me with you," he whispered to her, "but I will thank them for it for the rest of my days." Her eyes seemed to widen at his words and he leant in to capture her lips, her own moving with his at once as her hands slowly came to rest on his forearms as he continued to keep his own cupped around her face. "I want you Sansa," he breathed against her lips when he finally pulled back from her and she moved her hands away from him, slowly stepping backwards towards the bed, her hands coming to the laces of her dress.

He walked slowly towards her, his own hands coming to his own fastenings and ties, tossing his clothes away blindly as he could not move his eyes from her. Her dress fell fluidly to the floor and he noted the slight shake in her hands as she moved them to the ties of her shift. His own hands stilled at the laces of his breeches and he came to enclose his hands around hers, stopping her from baring herself to him. "Don't be afraid," he shook his head slowly, "I don't want you to ever be afraid of me Sansa." She met his eyes, slipping her hands out from under his. "I'm not afraid of you," she shook her own head, "I'm just afraid of how much I want you." Her confession had him pulling her right up against him, his lips claiming hers again and kissing her forcefully, her hands coming to grip onto his shoulders to steady herself. He steered her back to the bed, regretfully pulling away from her so he could drop her down onto it, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she flopped down against the pillows. Her hands didn't shake this time as they came to tug the ties of her shift loose and he smiled widely, kneeling on the side of the bed and pulling the silky material fluidly away from her.

"Don't," he said softly as she made to pull the blankets towards her and her hand stilled, a faint blush rising up on her cheeks. Aegon pulled his boots off hurriedly then and unlaced himself, shoving his breeches down and kicking them away from him before he crawled onto the bed. Sansa moved her legs apart for him and he came to nestle between them, her thighs drawing up around his waist as he bent his head to occupy himself at her breasts. Her hands fisted in his hair, a sharp intake of breath coming from her as her back arched up into him. He was so hard now that he thought he might explode but he wanted to bring her real pleasure just as he had promised her after their wedding night. As he continued teasing at her breast with his mouth he let his hands wander down to her thighs, rubbing firmly up and down them as he shifted his body to press his length between her legs. He could feel her arousal and it made him groan out against her breast, his lips trailing up her chest now and towards her neck, her fingers sliding through his hair before she gently trailed them down his back. Both of them arched towards one another then and he allowed his length to slip inside her. She gasped out and he continued kissing at her neck as he began to rock his hips slowly.

Her breaths were sharp as he continued his slow motion and he moved his lips from her neck, lifting his head up so he could meet her eyes as his hands around her thighs encouraged them to wrap higher around his waist. A stifled cry left her on his next thrust and he let his lips come to her forehead. "Don't fight it," he whispered against her skin, tasting a slight salty tang on his lips; "let yourself go … you're perfect Sansa, you're perfect …" Her nails pinched into his back and he could feel her brow furrowing beneath his lips, a louder cry leaving her on his next thrust as he buried himself as deeply as he could. "Move with me Sansa," he urged her, his lips fluttering against her clammy skin, "move with me," he encouraged, his hands squeezing around her thighs slightly. On his next thrust her hips moved up to meet his and he couldn't help but groan out, Gods she felt so good. A moan left her own mouth as they moved again and again, his pace quickening now despite himself, her hips rocking up to match him, a cry leaving her mouth each time now.

He let one hand come up to her hair, feeling the softness of it as he fisted it in his hands, his lips pressing kisses to her forehead and down her cheeks as gasps and moans continued to leave her own lips. She was coming, he could feel it, his hand clenching tighter around her thigh as a cry of utter pleasure mixed with surprise left her lips, her end triggering his own and he released himself with a groan of relief into her tight warmth. He could feel her ragged breathing in his ear as he pressed more kisses to her temple, his hand gently moving up and down her thigh, the other slackening the grip it had on her hair. Her own hands lay flat on his back, holding him in place but she needn't be worried about him wanting to move away, he was more than happy to stay like this with her. "Are you alright?" he finally breathed against her, feeling her nodding her head, her breathing still coming quickly. "I didn't think …" she started breathlessly, "I didn't know it could be like that." He pressed another kiss to her temple before shifting back slightly so he could meet her bright blue eyes. "It will always be like that from now on," he told her meaningfully, "I promise you."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed that guys, will get more for you as soon as I can!

:)


	71. Dearly Departed

**A/N: **Sorry I'm a bit late with this one guys, took a while for me to be happy with this chapter! Anyway, it is here now and I hope you enjoy it!

Also, just a quick note to say I have another story I've just started posting (I know, _another_ one, I don't know what I'm trying to do to myself!), based around Robb again but with a few tweaks (as ever). It's called For His Honour and posted up in the ASOIAF section (purely for character tagging) if you'd like to check it out (I know some of you already have so thanks for that!) Anyway, I shall leave that up to you!

**Boramir: **Thank you! I agree totally with the four outstanding problems that Aegon has, particularly the second and fourth points. I do hope to clear them all up by the end of the fic (fingers crossed!) I particularly liked your suggestion about the pet dragon by the way, very nice ;)

Right-ho, onwards folks!

:)

* * *

**70\. Dearly Departed**

* * *

W_interfell_

* * *

Dany stirred awake slowly, frowning slightly as she turned her head to the right only to see that Edric's cradle was empty. She blinked slowly, only now hearing Robb's soft tones and her son's little gurgles from the other side of her. A smile spread across her face as she turned to see Robb turned with his back to her. Edric she assumed must be at his side and she raised her brows as she saw Grey Wind sat at the side of the bed. She inched closer to Robb and pulled herself up against his side so she could peer down at their baby. Two weeks he had been in the world and she was still utterly overwhelmed by him. If she had it her own way she would probably have been more than content to just sit and watch him all day, every day. "Morning," Robb greeted her then and she could hear the smile in his voice, he was just as elated as she was and it thrilled her to hear it. "Morning," she returned, "and what are you three boys up to?" she asked in an amused tone and Robb turned his head to grin at her. "I thought it about time they were introduced, Grey Wind was getting rather impatient," Robb told her and she couldn't help but smile back.

Both she and Robb moved their eyes back to the wolf then as he seemed to be contemplating the baby, his big yellow eyes blinking slowly at him. Slowly he moved and Dany held her breath as his great head came closer to her son. Every instinct inside her was telling her to snatch her baby away from Grey Wind but she fought it, seeing Robb's hand ready to swat his wolf away if need be. Grey Wind nudged his nose gently against Edric's belly then and the baby turned his head sharply, his little arms and legs kicking furiously as he let out a gurgle. The wolf nudged him again and Edric lifted his hand to his muzzle and clamped around his whiskers. Dany breathed in sharply and Robb's body twitched but Grey Wind did nothing in retaliation. Slowly Dany felt Robb's body relax and he leant his own hand over to prise Edric's fingers from Grey Wind's face. He let out a frustrated little noise in response and Robb chuckled, patting Grey Wind affectionately on the head. His wolf opened his mouth then, his tongue lolling out as he bestowed what Dany could only describe as a grin on them all.

"They seem to be getting on well," she commented then and Robb turned to look at her again.

"They do indeed," he agreed with her as Grey Wind rested his head down next to where Edric lay.

"He will have to be introduced to Viserion next," she smiled.

"I don't think so," Robb said.

"Why not?" she asked him, her eyes wide.

"He's huge, he could swallow him whole," he said, shaking his head.

"And Grey Wind couldn't?" she raised a brow.

"He wouldn't, he knows Edric is my son … he wouldn't harm him," he said.

"And Viserion would recognise Edric is of my blood too," she protested.

"No," he said firmly.

"Robb -," she started.

"He breathes fire," he said pointedly, "no."

"Fine," she sighed exasperatedly, "but I will introduce them eventually."

"Preferably when he's big enough to run away," he said darkly and she swatted him.

"You're just biased," she said.

He didn't disagree with her, his eyes back on their son and such a warmth coming from his eyes. Dany would like to be irritated with him but she couldn't when he was looking like that. Sighing heavily she moved away from him and flopped back down onto her side of the bed to stretch her body properly awake. "How are you feeling today?" Robb asked her after a moment. "Perfectly well," she replied with a smile. "Good," he said just before a sharp knock came at the door. Robb moved up at once, shifting Edric carefully closer to her before he moved to open the door. "Ser Rodrik," he greeted in surprise and Dany frowned slightly, her hand coming to rub her son's belly gently as he began to grumble. "Sorry for coming so early my Lord, but this arrived from the Eyrie and I thought you would want to see it right away," Ser Rodrik replied and Dany's frown only deepened as she saw Robb take the letter, his body tensing in front of her eyes as he read down it. "Thank you for bringing this to me," he eventually said. "Sorry it was not better news," Ser Rodrik said heavily, patting Robb on the arm before he took his leave.

"What is it?" Dany asked Robb as he closed the door and slowly turned to face her again. "My aunt Lysa is guilty of treason against the crown," he said in a slightly dazed manner, "she almost had my father killed." Dany gasped at that, sitting up in bed as Robb crossed to her. "He's alright," he soothed before she could voice her concern, "but Lysa will be executed … her son is to be placed under house arrest. The Royces will take over the Vale," he explained to her and she moved closer to him as he sat down on the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm so sorry Robb," she said, the only words that would come for her. "I'm just glad my family are safe," he told her, clutching her closer, "I just hope my mother is alright … she doesn't deserve this upset."

"No," Dany agreed, running her hands softly through his hair. "It means they will be delayed even longer now," he said regretfully and she kissed his temple. "They will be back as soon as they can," she soothed him, "and we will be right here waiting. At least they have Edric to look forward to on their return." He pulled back slightly from her then and pecked her lips lightly. "Yes," he agreed with a small smile when he pulled away, "they sent their congratulations, they cannot wait to meet him." She smiled back at him, leaning in to press her lips to his again. Robb had just pulled her closer to him and deepened the kiss when Edric let out an insistent wail, followed by a mournful whine from Grey Wind. Dany pulled back and sighed, her blissful moment with her husband interrupted as she turned to her baby who was growing steadily more irritable. "He's hungry," she said, shifting towards him and scooping him up into her arms. "He's not the only one," Robb said grumpily and her smile widened as she encouraged Edric to her breast. "Patience is a virtue Robb Stark," she told him teasingly as she shifted herself back against the pillows. "Is it?" he said with a raised brow and she couldn't help but smile even more widely at him.

* * *

_The Eyrie_

* * *

Only Ned's hand firmly laced with her own gave Catelyn the strength to put one foot in front of the other. Part of her had wanted to stay in their chambers and hide under the blankets and furs, completely safe and secure in her husband's arms. Ned felt it his duty to watch the King's justice carried out though and she had been unwilling to part with him. Since she had almost seen him murdered before her eyes she had barely let him out of her sight for more than a moment. Every time she was not with him it felt as though she couldn't breathe. As much as she was dreading watching her sister's demise part of her felt as though she ought to be there. Edmure had written from Riverrun, stating his disbelief at what their sister had done. He had no argument against the sentence though and Catelyn had been relieved to read it. Edmure had apologised that he would not be able to be with her when it happened but she understood. Roslin had only given birth a few weeks previously and he was loathe to leave his wife and new daughter.

"Are you absolutely certain of this?" Ned asked her as they came out into the courtyard.

"I'm certain," she said, her voice coming out far stronger than she had expected it to.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to stay indoors with Bran," he went on and she shook her head.

"She nearly killed you," she turned to meet his eyes, "out of sheer spite."

"She's mad Cat," he soothed her.

"No," she shook her head, "she manipulated me, she knew what she was doing … she is unhinged I'll give her that but she _knew _what she was doing in that room."

"It's over now," he said, his hand tightening around hers.

"Not yet it isn't," she shook her head again, "but it soon will be, and when it is I want nothing more than to go home."

"Me too," he smiled slightly at her and she did her best to return it.

"We have been gone far too long, Bran especially," she went on.

"I know," Ned nodded, "but he understands Cat, he can be patient."

"I just want to see my children again," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know," he said again, tugging her forwards into an embrace.

"I wish we could all be together," she choked out and he rubbed his hands up and down her back.

"So do I," he whispered against her hair, "but Jon is more than happy in the south, and Sansa sounded so positive in her last letter."

"I know … I know they will be just fine, but I will miss them so much Ned," she mumbled against him.

"We all will," he soothed, "but it is not as though we will never see them again."

"No," she agreed, forcing her tears to stop as she kept her head buried in her husband's vast chest.

"I love you Cat," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you Ned," she returned and he held her closer for a long moment until the bells began to toll.

Somehow she managed to pull herself away from his comforting embrace and turn to watch Lysa being brought up from the cells. She swallowed hard and Ned wound his arm about her shoulders and held her tightly against his side, her own arm sneaking around his waist as she leaned into him. "Cat-," he started but she shook her head, her fingertips pinching into him. "I'm sure Ned," she whispered and his own hand clenched around her shoulder for a moment but he said no more. Catelyn allowed her eyes to focus on her sister, seeing the way Lysa's own eyes darted about the courtyard as though she were looking for someone. They scanned right over Catelyn as though she wasn't even there and even though she despised her sister for what she had done she still felt a pang of regret in her heart. How had it ever come to this? How could it be that she hadn't known?

"Where is he?!" Lysa shrieked suddenly, pulling against the guards who were leading her out. "Where is my son?! Where is my sweet Robin?!" Each question came out more hysterically than the last as Lysa demanded over and over again to see her son. She wouldn't see him. Robin was already on the way to Longbow Hall under heavy guard, Catelyn was sure he would never leave that place again. The Maester at the Eyrie was convinced that he was ill in his mind, that his frequent bouts of temper and fits could not have been helped by his mother. Lysa had stifled him from what she had been told, she could only hope that being away from her would perhaps aid him in some way eventually. The Royces had promised that he would be well taken care of and a Septa and a Maester had been part of his guard. He would continue to learn and be taught. Catelyn could only hope that some of it might sink in. Either way, he would be a prisoner for the rest of his days most likely, kept secure at Longbow Hall where he would be of no danger to others anymore.

Lysa was still shrieking and Catelyn could hardly bear it, almost wishing that her life would end now so she didn't have to listen anymore. It was an awful thing to think of her own sister but it was the only feeling she had towards her now. She just wanted it over. Pity mingled with hate for the woman she had thought she could only ever love. Even when they had had scarce contact over the years she still felt affection for her little sister and she had always assumed, perhaps naively, that Lysa felt the same about her. Apparently she had been wrong. No one did what Lysa had done to someone they loved. No one. She leaned further into Ned as she remembered him being forced towards that damned moon door. For a painful minute she had thought she would lose him, her tower of strength. The man she had loved for so long that she could no longer remember a time when she hadn't. The father of her beautiful children. So loving and so devoted to all of them. She would never forgive Lysa for trying to take that away from her and her children. Never.

Ned's hand clenched around her shoulder reassuringly again as Lysa was forced down to her knees, still screaming for her son and screaming for mercy. Threats came next but Catelyn knew that no one would pay them any heed. She certainly didn't. Lysa had no power now, thank the Gods. Catelyn just hoped she could be held still, it would be quick and painless if she just stayed still. Two guards forced her head down onto the block, another coming to hold her hands out in front of her and Catelyn pressed her lips together hard to force back the rising sob. How could it have ended up like this? How had her smiling, happy, little sister ended up like this? Lysa screamed out again and Catelyn's eyes flickered to Lord Royce as he signalled for the executioner. She was asked if she had any final words and it was then she finally stopped struggling against those holding her, her screams subsiding.

They cautiously let her go then and she raised her head from the block, a look of utmost loathing in her eyes as she found Catelyn's. "You will burn in the seven hells for this," she hissed, "kinslayer." Catelyn swallowed hard as her sister calmly lay her head down on the block again, unable to get her head around the sudden change in her behaviour. Perhaps she truly was mad. Ned pulled her closer into his side then as the executioner stepped forward and raised his great-sword high above his head. In the next moment it was swinging through the air and in the blink of an eye Lysa's head was severed from her body. Catelyn stared for a second before she turned away, moving herself into her husband's waiting embrace and allowing him to press her head against his chest so she could see no more. "I'm sorry Cat," he murmured against her hair, placing a kiss to the top of her head. "It's over," she whispered in response, "it's finally over, and we can go home."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Jon beamed as he stepped out into the courtyard with Steffon in his arms, seeing the carriage ready and waiting and the guards Aegon had ordered to see him and his family safely to Storm's End. Finally he and Margaery would be able to begin their lives together properly and get Steffon settled into his true home. He glanced sideways at the baby and saw him wide-eyed as he looked around at all the goings on surrounding him. Steffon caught his gaze then and grinned, showing off the two new teeth that had sprouted through his gums over the last days. Since they had made an appearance he had been much less grizzly and had even managed to sleep all the way through the night on more than one occasion. Jon smiled back at him. Despite the frequent nights of interrupted sleeps he would not be without the tiny creature in his arms, nor without his mother who was rounding the corner of the courtyard in step with Sansa and Erinne. Margaery looked up from her conversation to smile in their direction and Jon encouraged Steffon to wave at his mother, which he did after some persuasion.

"All set?" Aegon's voice sounded behind him and Jon turned his attention away from his wife and towards his brother. "Packed and ready," Jon smiled at him and Aegon returned the gesture, his eyes flickering towards the waiting carriage. "It will be strange here without you," Aegon said quietly then, his brow slightly furrowed. "I know," Jon agreed just as quietly. It was only dawning on him now how much he would miss his brother. "You'll be back soon enough," Aegon said more jovially and Jon was glad of his change in tone, despite suspecting that it may be slightly forced. "Every three moons as agreed," Jon grinned, "although," his tone changed slightly, "if you have need of me before then you only have to send word."

"Thank you Jon," Aegon looked immensely relieved and Jon brought the smile back to his face.

"Are we ready?" he turned to meet Margaery's eyes then and saw the excitement in them.

"Ready," Jon nodded, Steffon babbling out happy nonsense in his arms.

"Give him here, you ought to say your goodbyes," Margaery smiled, holding her arms out for her son.

"And what about yours?" Jon asked her lowly, his eyes flickering towards Loras who was stood guard several feet away, his eyes determinedly fixed elsewhere.

"I'm not going to force it Jon," she said, a flicker of sadness crossing her face before she brightened her features when he handed Steffon to her.

"Whatever you like," he frowned slightly as she turned away from him as Erinne drew her attention to Willas making his way out of the keep.

Jon turned back to Aegon just as Sansa came to his side and he smiled for both of them. He had been worried about how they would cope with everything, especially since Val had left but he had been pleased to note that they had seemed to have grown even closer. Aegon didn't sit in court without Sansa at his side and she had even been present for some council meetings. She said little but whenever she did speak Aegon would always carefully listen to her every word. Jon had every hope that in time they would only grow even stronger together. The thought made him smile even more widely, all he wanted was for them to be happy.

"You take care," Sansa smiled for him, coming closer and embracing him carefully.

"Keep him in line," he said jokingly, nodding towards Aegon as they broke apart.

"I do my best," she said, her eyes sliding to her husband's for a moment.

"And it's more than good enough," Aegon replied to her before he stepped forward to embrace Jon.

"Remember what I said," Jon murmured to him before slapping him on the back.

"I'm forever grateful you stumbled across us Jon," Aegon returned.

"So am I," Jon smiled as they broke apart.

"I'll miss you brother," Aegon met his eyes and Jon nodded sincerely.

"And I'll miss you," he replied, clasping his hand tightly before he turned and walked away.

Margaery was doing her best to embrace everyone with one arm and Jon rolled his eyes at her, coming to take Steffon out of her arms so she could say a proper farewell to Willas. He moved back slightly, his eyes finding Shireen who had her arms wrapped tightly around Erinne's waist. The sight made him smile slightly sadly and he determined that he would keep his word and make sure that the pair of them saw plenty of one another. Perhaps Shireen could travel back to the Capitol with him and stay with her step-mother while he attended Aegon's council meetings. It should be easy enough to arrange it given that Erinne and Willas would soon be married and taking up permanent residence in the Capitol. Jon moved his eyes away from them then and allowed them to rest on Loras. This time the Kingsguard did meet his eyes and Jon raised his brows expectantly.

For a long moment he thought that Loras would stay still at his post but then he finally moved and Jon fought not to smile, unsure of where his good-brother was heading. To his surprise he made a beeline towards Jon, stopping a few feet away from him and eyeing Steffon warily. "I'd say he won't bite," Jon smiled slightly, "but he gained two new teeth this week." Loras smiled himself at that, a real smile that lit up his eyes that were so like Margaery's. "Two?" Loras raised his brows slightly. "Aye," Jon confirmed and Loras took a few more steps towards him. "Take him a moment," Jon offered and Loras seemed to take a deep breath before he outstretched his arms to take his nephew. Jon couldn't imagine what he was feeling as he held the baby's eyes, his own filled with something that seemed to mingle wonder and regret. He wondered if Margaery ever felt that way, his eyes sliding to find her watching Loras with deep sadness etched across her face.

She caught his eye in the next moment and mouthed _thank you_ towards him to which he smiled at her. After another few minutes she stepped closer to her brother and Loras turned at her approach, a slightly apprehensive look crossing his features. "I'm sorry," he said and Margaery shook her head at once. "You have nothing to be sorry for, not after everything you have done for me and him. Without you he wouldn't exist and my life wouldn't be worth living," she told him, laying her hand gently on his forearm, "I know how hard it must be for you to see Renly shining from him, but surely it is a good thing that he can live on?" she raised her brows expectantly and Loras nodded vigorously, his eyes filling with tears. "You should be so proud of him Margaery," he finally said.

"I am," she told him meaningfully, "and I promise you Loras, I will tell him all about his father … I want him to know Renly, perhaps you can help me?"

"Perhaps," he smiled and she returned the gesture, stepping closer and embracing her brother as best she could with her son between them.

"He loved you," Jon heard her whisper; "he loved you more than anything."

"I'm sorry," Loras whispered back and she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she told him firmly and he smiled again, offering Steffon back to her.

"I suppose it is high time you set off," Loras said then, blinking rapidly.

"Yes, we really ought to get going," Jon said apologetically.

"Visit us," Margaery implored Loras and he nodded for her before she turned towards the carriage.

"Safe travels," Loras raised his hand to her and she waved back, urging Steffon to do the same.

Loras' eyes lit up when the baby waved his chubby little fist at him and Jon smiled slightly, moving towards his good-brother and slapping him on the back before he followed on after Margaery. "After you Lady Shireen," she said kindly, ushering the girl up before her. "Goodbye Erinne!" Shireen called as she climbed into the carriage. "Goodbye Shireen, we'll see you soon!" Erinne called back as Jon helped Margaery up the step. He turned back once she was settled inside and looked around those he was leaving again, raising his hand up to them all as his eyes sought out Aegon's. His brother nodded to him and Jon inclined his own head in return. They shared a smile and Jon felt even more reassured about leaving when he saw Sansa's hand entwined firmly with his brother's. He raised his hand once more before he turned back to the carriage and hauled himself up, slamming the door behind him.

They began to move in the next moment and Jon smiled widely at Margaery who was sat opposite him with Steffon in her lap and Shireen at her side. "Excited?" he asked her and she nodded her head, glancing at the young girl beside her who smiled shyly. "Yes I am," his wife confirmed happily, "we all ought to be, for it is a new adventure for all of us."

* * *

**A/N: **Another step closer to the end, hope you all enjoyed! :)


	72. Welcome Home

**A/N: **Hey guys! Lucky for you I have wifi on this away trip (there is a first time for everything!) Anyway, here's the next chapter and thank you to every single one of you who has reviewed and pushed it passed 1,000. It's crazy but thank you so much!

**Marvelmyra: **You've hit the nail on the head when it comes to Lysa, that was exactly what she wanted to do. In her mind it would have been the ultimate revenge considering Lysa has lost her own husband (and knowing full well that he was always in love with Cat.) Thank goodness I didn't let her succeed!

Right-ho folks. Onwards!

:)

* * *

**71\. Welcome Home**

* * *

_Storm's End_

* * *

It was Ghost's yapping that drew their attention and Margaery looking towards her husband expectantly. Jon shifted closer to the window and drew down the slat in the side of the carriage so he could stick his head out. "We're here," he reported to her, "Gods what a place … we should be at the gates in mere minutes." He pulled his head back in from the window then as Margaery bounced her grumbling son on her knee. "About time, I'm not sure he could stand another day cooped up in this thing, and I'm rather desperate to get out myself," Margaery said with a relieved smile. "How about you Shireen?" Jon looked towards the young girl. "I can't wait," she said in a small voice but Margaery saw the wide smile on her face as she looked down towards her entwined hands and shared a knowing smile with her husband.

"Could you have them pull up before the gates?" Margaery asked Jon and he raised his brows slightly; "there is something I need to show Steffon." Jon nodded his understanding then and shifted back to open up the slat, calling up to the driver to stop before they went through the gates. "Thank you," Margaery said quietly, her grip on Steffon tightening ever so slightly. "No need to thank me," Jon said just as quietly. The carriage seemed to be slowing in the next moment and soon came to a complete halt. Jon moved first, opening up the door and stepping down, holding out his hand for Margaery. She took it gratefully, shifting Steffon onto one hip as she descended down the steps and onto solid ground again. Her eyes took in the sight of Storm's end, breathing in the salty tang of the sea which was far stronger here than it had been at the Capitol.

She sought out the cliffs, seeing the ragged banner fluttering after a moment and swallowing hard, bouncing Steffon on her hip as he made an inquisitive noise. "Are you alright?" Jon asked and she turned to see her husband standing with Shireen who looked rather uncertain of herself. "Perhaps you ought to take Shireen inside and get her settled … I'll follow on," she smiled.

"By yourself?" Jon raised his brows.

"Ghost can come with me," she smiled again as his wolf slinked around her skirts.

"Very well," he said heavily, "come Lady Shireen, let us explore."

Margaery kept the smile on her face as Jon offered Shireen his arm and led her towards the gate that had been raised up for them. She gazed up at Storm's End for a long moment, remembering the last time she had been here. Last time she had been Renly's wife and the castle had been besieged by Stannis' forces. She tried not to remember the outcome of their "negotiations", shuddering slightly as she remembered the weight of his body slumping back against her. Steffon gurgled loudly and she turned to smile at him, finally making her feet move towards the fluttering banner. At least something good had come of being here before. She could not be certain but in her mind she always imagined that it had been here in their tent where Renly had brought her pleasure for the first time that they had conceived their son.

Her eye was caught from the banner and to the skies as Rhaenar flew overhead, a shadow swooping over her before he beat his great wings a few more times and flew out over the sea. He had loved the sea back at the Capitol, often seen perching on rocks and dipping his great head into the water every now and again, doubtless to catch fish. Margaery imagined that he would adjust just fine to Storm's End, she could only hope that the rest of them would. Ghost seemed happy enough as he trotted along at her side and she tried to push away her own apprehension. For so long she had been longing to come here, for Steffon to come home. Now she was here though … well now she was here she was remembering things she had buried a long time ago. The regret felt heavier here, even more so as she drew nearer to the tattered stag banner.

She stopped a few feet away, her eyes able to make out the mound where the earth had been disturbed. Grass covered it now, as did several wild flowers, more on the mound than there were surrounding it. She walked right up next to it and knelt down at the side, her fingers going to touch the ragged banner that had been tied around a piece of driftwood and staked at the head of his grave. Steffon insisted on leaving her arms then and she sat him down next to her, seeing Ghost's eyes fixed intently on her baby. She had been nervous having the wolf around him at first but he had proven himself to be an invaluable set of extra eyes. Margaery imagined that he would come in even handier when Steffon took his first steps.

"Here he is," Margaery said softly, laying her hand down on the mound, "here's your son. No doubt you have already glimpsed him; that you've been looking over him. I just know you'd be as proud as I am … and I know how much it must hurt that you cannot be here with him. I named him for your father just like you always spoke about and I will always make sure he knows who his father was. Jon will never replace you Renly … but Steffon needs a strong man in his life, he is far too much for me to cope with on my own. He certainly inherited the Baratheon temper …"

As if to prove her point Steffon let out a rather loud screech as he placed his hands on the grass and rocked back and forth slightly, his eyes fixed on the banner. "You see?" Margaery laughed slightly, tears stinging her eyes as she could almost imagine the amused look Renly would be bestowing on them. Steffon turned his head towards her then and grinned and she couldn't help but smile back at him, a tear threatening to escape her now. "This is where your papa rests Steffon," she told him and he blinked his great blue eyes at her before he turned his head back to the banner. Before she could do more than blink he was crawling towards it, clumsily at first but gaining more confidence as he went on. Margaery couldn't help but laugh incredulously as he sat himself up again next to the driftwood and lifted his hand up to try and snatch at the fluttering banner. "Did you see that?" she whispered to Renly, "he has never done that before."

"Margaery?" she turned her head and was unsurprised to see Jon approaching. She ought to have known that he would not leave her out here alone for long. "Where's Shireen?" she asked him as he hesitantly came to kneel down at her side. "Getting acquainted with the Septa," Jon smiled, "is this … Renly?" he asked almost uncertainly.

"Loras had him buried here," Margaery confirmed, "they used to go riding along the cliffs together and this was their favourite view point," she smiled slightly, her eyes going back to Steffon as he grew more and more frustrated that he couldn't catch hold of the banner. "I really ought to have something more permanent made to mark it properly," she frowned a little, "make it somewhere Steffon can come when he's older should he so wish."

"That sounds like a lovely idea," Jon said quietly, his hand coming to take hers and she squeezed tightly, her eyes still stinging. "Sometimes I wish he was still alive," she confessed to him, "for Steffon more than myself but then I remember … had he lived then you and I would never have been able to be together …" she tailed off, shaking her head.

"If he had lived then likely you and I would never have met," Jon smiled slightly and she turned to meet his eyes, his beautiful eyes that she could easily lose herself in. "Perhaps we would have," she said quietly, "but then it would all have been so different."

"I'm sorry Steffon will never know his true father, but I swear to you that I will always do my best," he told her meaningfully and she nodded, leaning into him and resting her head down against his shoulder. "You already do more than enough," she told him honestly, "it seems to me that you were made to be a father Jon."

"I love you," he whispered, "both of you … and I will always do my best for you, each and every day."

"I know," she whispered back, feeling him kiss the top of her head, "and we love you."

"It's a lovely place for him to rest up here," Jon commented after a long moment.

"Yes," she smiled, "but it's his place, and we have intruded enough … I think it time we went home."

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Victarion stamped down the boards and stepped onto the harbour walls. He didn't need to look behind to know that his men were following him. His ship had docked first, the others trickling in behind. Now he had to get up to the keep and deal with Balon before his brother worked out what was going on. When he had left Pyke his brother had been in the midst of ever deepening madness and he could only assume that it had got worse in his absence. Hopefully that would work to his advantage and Balon would have no inkling whatsoever that he was about to be deposed and sent to the North to meet the justice of Lord Stark. Victarion's men clanked behind him as he marched briskly up the harbour steps and towards the stables. "Horses!" he bellowed as he drew nearer and the stable boys moved at once.

Over two dozen were saddled up and ready for him and his men in a matter of moments and Victarion hauled himself up and dug his heels in. The others around him followed suit, those left without mounts following on foot. The keep was looming up ahead of him in no time and for the first time Victarion felt a stab of apprehension. He had already betrayed one brother, though he had deserved it, and now he was about to betray another. In a matter of weeks Balon's head would be on a spike atop Winterfell. What a foolish thing it had been for him to recall Euron and attempt to wreak vengeance on the North. All it had served to do was lose him a brother and hundreds of good men, as well as likely causing his only remaining son to despise him even more. Victarion would have to send word to Theon as soon as he had Balon in chains, the boy ought to be warned he would soon be seeing his father again.

He dismounted in the courtyard and pounded his way towards the doors of the keep, slamming them open and trying not to frown when he saw that there were no guards posted. Inside he went, his armoured steps echoing eerily around the entrance hall. Swallowing down his unease he went for the main hall and saw it too deserted, the Seastone chair stood cold and abandoned. A frown creased his brow. "Where is everyone?" one of his men asked briskly and Victarion turned to address those who had followed him inside. "Search the keep," he ordered and they obeyed him at once, leaving him alone in the hall with that chair. He eyed it for a moment before he turned on his heel and marched back out into the entrance hall and out into the courtyard. Something wasn't right.

His eye caught someone lurking over by the kitchens in the next moment; "come here!" he ordered at once and the frail old man seemed to jump before he began hobbling towards him. Impatient, Victarion crossed to meet him, seeing him bent almost double. He recognised him now, he was the Maester's assistant and nearing a hundred years old. "Where is everyone?" Victarion asked.

"Lord Greyjoy ordered everyone from the keep, none to return on pain of death," he told him.

"And yet here you are," Victarion raised his brows.

"What do I have to fear from death?" the old man countered and Victarion snorted slightly.

"Why did my brother order everyone away?" he asked then.

"I cannot know my Lord," the old man said.

"But he remains on Pyke?" Victarion asked.

"Aye," he nodded and a sinking feeling crept into Victarion's body.

"When did he send everyone away?" Victarion asked quietly.

"When word came that the Crows-Eye was dead and that you were to bend the knee," he said.

Victarion didn't need to hear anymore. He turned away from the old man and sprinted back into the keep as fast as his legs would carry him. Up the stairs he went and down the hallways towards the chambers that Alannys had been confined to for so many years as her madness slowly consumed her. Hard as he was, Balon had never been able to stomach her suffering, he cared more for her than he would readily admit but Victarion was no fool. He burst through the door without invitation. It was the smell that hit him first. The smell of decay. Of death. He brought his sleeve up to his nose and gingerly moved further into the room.

They lay side by side. If it weren't for the blue tinged skin and the overwhelming scent of death then Victarion could almost pretend that they were sleeping. His eye caught the empty bottle on the side table and he snatched it up. There was no label but he would bet his ship that it was nightshade. He took one more look at his brother and his good-sister's lifeless forms before he backed away from the bed and back out of the door. He closed it firmly behind him and gratefully took a great gulp of clean air. Down the hallways he went, hoping he would run into some of his men. They would have to move the bodies, dispose of them the right way. "My Lord!" someone called up from the entrance hall as he began to descend the stairs. "There is no sign of anyone my Lord!"

"I found my brother and his wife," Victarion told him, "the search is over … they have both gone to the Drowned God."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

The streets were lined with cheering people as Ned, Catelyn and Bran led the men towards the gates of the keep and Ned was overwhelmed by it all. Not even when he had returned after the Rebellion had there been this many people to greet them. He did his best to smile and wave, feeling rather overwhelmed by it all and beyond pleased to see the gates looming up ahead of them as they rounded the next corner. In another minute they were under them and his eyes went to his waiting family who were stood at the bottom of the steps. A smile lit up his face as he saw them all there, a new addition in their midst who was cradled in Dany's arms. He spotted Gendry and Theon at the blacksmith as he dismounted and he waved to them before beckoning Theon towards him. After a moment he came and Ned noted that he looked almost apprehensive.

"Lord Stark," he bowed shortly, "forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Ned pulled him into an embrace, "I will never forget your loyalty Theon."

"Thank you my Lord," Theon sounded relieved as he pulled away.

"How's your boy?" Ned asked him.

"Well," a childlike grin lit up Theon's face, "he's beginning to crawl."

"The Gods help you," Ned chuckled, slapping him on the back heartily just before Catelyn came to his side and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

"I should let you meet your new addition," Theon bowed shortly again, "it is good to see you all safely returned my Lord, my Lady."

"And yourself," Ned said sincerely, inclining his head to Theon before he finally moved towards his own family.

Bran and Arya were already embracing and Catelyn's hand slipped from his arm as they broke apart, moving to embrace their daughter. That left Robb to Ned and he had no words for his eldest son as a grin spread across both of their faces. He gathered him into his arms tightly for a moment before they broke apart, Ned's eyes sliding to Dany. "Would you like to meet your grandson?" she asked him with a smile and he could only nod vaguely. She stepped closer, her hand coming to rearrange his blankets so that Ned could better see his face. He appeared to be sleeping and Ned drank in his features, seeing some of Dany but the baby was overwhelmingly Robb's son. "Incredible," he managed to utter and Dany moved again, offering Edric up to him and he carefully took him into his arms.

The baby stirred in his blankets then, his eyelids fluttering open and Ned almost started on seeing the big grey orbs shining up at him. He had not expected that. "I thought you might like that," Robb said as Ned smiled widely and he moved his eyes to his son. "He's perfect," Ned managed.

"Utterly perfect," Catelyn agreed as she came to his side, her hand coming to rest on the baby's head for a moment. "You hold him a moment Cat," Ned murmured, "let me see the others." Catelyn moved to take Edric from him at once and he saw the proud wonderment etched across her features as she rocked their grandson gently in her arms. Rickon and Arya barrelled into him as soon as his arms were free and he couldn't help but laugh, holding them tightly against him. "We missed you!" Rickon exclaimed and Ned patted his back soothingly. "Well we're home now," Ned told him, "and believe me there are no plans to leave again for a long time."

They let him go after another moment and Ned moved to embrace his good-daughter gently. "You look well," he smiled at her when he pulled back and Dany beamed up at him, her eyes tired but happy. "I am, thank you," she responded and Robb draped his arm about her shoulders as she stepped back; "he doesn't like to sleep much at night but he's so perfect I cannot complain."

"I'm so pleased and proud of you, both of you," he nodded to them and they both beamed at him. "We shall have to organise a naming ceremony for him," Catelyn spoke up then, still rocking Edric in her arms, "a big celebration … the Gods know I think we deserve one after the last year or so."

"I couldn't agree more," Ned smiled.

"Can we have a tourney?" Arya asked excitedly.

"Don't push it," Ned said in an amused tone.

"But a tourney would be wonderful!" Bran protested and Ned sighed.

"And who do you suppose would come? The war is over with, people just want to be at home now," Ned told them all.

"I suppose," Bran and Arya both said in identical disappointed tones.

"Arya, what in the name of the Gods are you wearing?" Catelyn asked then, as though she had only just realised their daughter was in breeches and a tunic.

"Clothes," Arya said indignantly and Ned had to suppress a smile.

"They are no clothes for a young lady," she told her pointedly.

"Well I can't very well wear a dress in the tiltyard can I?" Arya rolled her eyes.

"Tiltyard?" Catelyn repeated quietly and Ned looked towards Robb who looked rather sheepish. Catelyn seemed to catch his line of sight and she too turned her eyes on Robb.

"Arya had some … issues with her lessons, she wasn't enjoying them and so I came up with a compromise. She trains with Brienne in the morning and the evening and between she goes to lessons. She knows if she skips any of her lessons with her Septa then she will no longer be allowed to train and she has attended every single one," Robb explained, "since she had sword practice at the Capitol I thought it would be alright," he finished and Catelyn's eyes moved to Ned now.

"Did she now?" she raised her brows at him.

"Oh come on Cat," Ned said, "you know what she's like … I could hardly leave her and Bran to spar on their own; they might have hurt themselves without proper guidance."

"And you really haven't missed a lesson since you made this arrangement with Robb?" Catelyn turned to Arya after staring at Ned intently for a long moment.

"Not one," Arya confirmed, bestowing her sweetest smile on her mother, "you can check with the Septa if you don't believe me …"

"I believe you," Catelyn said, "although thousands wouldn't."

"Does that mean I can carry on?" Arya asked hopefully, her eyes flickering between her parents.

"If your mother agrees," Ned said and Catelyn sighed heavily.

"Oh very well," she said in an exasperated manner, "but you will wear a dress for the naming ceremony and the feast and you will wear it with good grace."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa reclined back against Aegon's chest as he gently ran the washcloth up and down her arms before gliding it down between the valley of her breasts. She sighed in contentment then and her husband dropped the washcloth back into the tub and let his hand travel down her arms to lace with her own. "Happy?" he breathed in her ear as he began to play with their entwined fingers. "Happy," she confirmed and he placed a kiss to her temple at her response. "And you?" she asked after a moment, tugging on his hands and encouraging him to wrap his arms around her. "Happy," he told her in a relaxed manner and she smiled; "I know the last few months have been hectic and difficult at times but I think things are finally settling down now."

"Me too," she agreed, shifting her head to his shoulder and tilting her face up towards his. She saw the grin on his face as he tilted his own head so he could lean down and capture her lips with his. A low moan escaped her as they kissed and he deepened it, one of his hands sneaking down her stomach and beneath the steaming water. His fingers sought their way between her legs and she moaned into his mouth again as he began to move them ever so slowly against her. Gods it felt good. True to his word Aegon had brought her immense pleasure each time he had taken her since the wedding night and her body now responded to his touch and kiss almost immediately. She was far more confident with him now, hence why she could relax with him in the bathtub in such an intimate manner. When she was with him she no longer felt nervous or embarrassed about her naked body. Aegon seemed to enjoy her and she could now readily admit to herself that she enjoyed him.

Her head was spinning as his ministrations continued and she shifted her body slightly, making to turn around in the tub. He encouraged her movement, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes as she carefully turned to face him. She returned the smile he was bestowing on her and inched towards him, an insistent knock sounding on the door just as she did so. Aegon looked instantly furious and Sansa moved back slightly as he hauled himself up and out of the water. "Don't move," he told her, "I'll get rid of them." Even though he was irritated she could help but smile in quiet triumph, knowing he was only annoyed because of what their visitor had interrupted. "One moment," he called out towards the door as he hastily dried himself before wrapping his robe around him and padding around the screen.

Sansa did as she was told and reclined back in the water to wait for him to return, closing her eyes in satisfaction. They snapped open again in the next moment as she heard Aegon's tone; "You are certain of this?" he was asking insistently and she frowned, pulling her own body up from the water and snatching a towel towards her. "Thank you," Aegon was saying as she dried herself off, "gather the council I need to see them at once." Her frown deepened at that and she dropped the towel, grabbing her own robe and wrapping it around her, emerging from behind the screen just as Aegon closed the door firmly. "What is it?" she asked him as he turned to her, a piece of parchment in his hand and a dazed expression on his face. "They've found him," he finally managed to whisper; "they've found the Mountain."

* * *

**A/N: **Just when you thought everything was going smoothly...hey well. More soon!

:)


	73. Sweet Revenge

**A/N: **Sorry I've left you hanging so long guys, this week has just been crazy busy! Anyway, here is the new one for you all.

**Boramir: **Thank you. Yes indeed, it wouldn't be very smart of him to go and get himself crushed. See below for the result!

Right-ho guys, onwards!

:)

* * *

**72\. Sweet Revenge**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"You are going now?" Sansa asked him, her eyes wide as she rose up from the sofa and walked towards him. "The men are gathering," Aegon confirmed, placing his hands on her shoulders as she came to stand in front of him; "I will see Alerie before I leave," he swallowed hard, somehow meeting his wife's eyes. They were dancing with fear and he couldn't stand seeing her scared, grabbing her closer and holding her tight against him for the longest time. "Tell me you won't put yourself at risk," she whispered against his chest as he rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her back. "I won't," he promised her and her own grip seemed to tighten around his waist. "I'll miss you," she whispered and he swallowed hard, pressing his lips firmly against the top of her head before he stepped out of their embrace. "I'll miss you," he said, meeting her eyes; "would you come with me to see Alerie?" he asked and she nodded.

He laced his hand with hers then and pulled her towards the door, leading the way down the short stretch of hallway that led to the new chambers Sansa had had refurnished and redecorated for his daughter. The nurses all jumped up from whatever they were doing as they entered, all of them curtseying lowly to them. Aegon barely had a moment to spare them, forcing something resembling a smile to his face before he led Sansa into the little chamber off the living area where his daughter would no doubt be resting in her cradle. She was, and she was awake, her lilac eyes shining as he peered down into the cradle. Alerie kicked at her blankets, waving her little arms furiously at him and he dropped Sansa's hand and bent down to scoop her up into his arms. He held her against his chest and she pulled her little head back, already able to hold it up steadily by herself. She was such a strong little thing and he met her eyes as she let out an insistent gurgle.

"Sansa … I know it's a lot to ask but –," he started.

"I will come and see her every day," she cut him off and he nodded.

"Thank you so much," he said gratefully and she stepped closer, laying one of her hands on his arm and allowing her other to stroke across Alerie's fine, blonde hair.

"It's my pleasure," she told him and he didn't doubt the sincerity in her voice.

"Don't come down to say goodbye," he said to Sansa then, holding his daughter closer for a moment and pressing a kiss to her soft head; "it's best we don't make it common knowledge that I have left the Capitol."

"As you wish," she said, "what will happen in your absence?"

"Oberyn is coming with me," he told her and she nodded, "the rest of the council remains the same … you are more than capable of seeing to matters with their help."

"If you're sure," she said quietly.

"You're my Queen," he said firmly, meeting her eyes, "I trust you with this."

"I won't let you down," she promised him, holding his eyes.

"I know you won't," he said softly, "you never have."

* * *

_Goldengrove_

* * *

It had taken them a week of long, hard riding to get this far and Aegon had finally given in to a full night's rest. Just a few hours from here stood Clegane Hall. Aegon's hands clenched into fists at his sides as ever they seemed to do whenever he thought about that monster cowering behind his walls. It had been his own men who had betrayed him in the end. Varys had heard whispers that the Mountain had fled back to the seat his name had never deserved but proof had finally come. The bastard had not allowed the gates to open since he had returned to his lair. Consequently the people who resided within were starving as the animal kept all the supplies in the main keep for his own consumption. The men had conspired amongst themselves and two of them had escaped through the drain network to send word to the Capitol. Those inside Clegane Hall were ready and waiting for the Royal banners to appear on the horizon and when they did the gates would be raised. Finally Aegon would get his justice for his mother and his sister, as well as that unnamed boy who died in his place and the countless other men and women the Mountain had murdered or defiled.

He stamped restlessly up and down the camp as canvas tents were erected and fires lit. As he turned to begin another lap of pacing Oberyn hailed him over and after considering it for a moment Aegon walked towards him. "Relax," his uncle said at once, "take a drink … you won't even be able to hold your sword steady in your hand if you continue like this."

"I can't help it," Aegon shrugged and his uncle smiled sympathetically before forcing a tankard brimming with ale into his hands. "A good thing you have a dragon then," Oberyn smiled and Aegon couldn't help but twitch his lips up in response. "I have been thinking about it all the way here," he told his uncle, "how I'm going to do it … what the best way of making him suffer is."

"I don't care how you do it," Oberyn told him, meeting his eyes, "if you want Rhaegal to burn him where he stands then I will happily watch … all I want is to hear him admit to what he did first."

"He will," Aegon promised him, holding his eyes fast, "that monster will not be allowed to take his last breath until he confesses to it all … I don't care how long it takes, or what I have to do."

Oberyn nodded then and was just about to open his mouth and say something else when a huge shriek came from Rhaegal who was soaring above the camp. Aegon snapped his eyes to his dragon, feeling them widen as he saw another set of wings flapping towards them, growing bigger and bigger through the gathering darkness. An answering roar came from the approaching dragon and Aegon stared incredulously as Rhaenar came into view, circling the camp a few times and exchanging roars and shrieks with his brother before he came to land gracefully near-by. Aegon's eyes almost fell out of his head as he saw his own brother sliding down from the back of the great beast, a laugh of surprised laughter leaving his lips.

"I knew I'd never catch you on horseback," Jon said with a grin as he walked towards them.

"What …?" Aegon shook his head, not even knowing what question he wanted to ask.

"Sansa sent me word," Jon said, "Did you really think I wouldn't come?"

"I don't know," Aegon said honestly, "truth be told thought didn't much come into it."

"She was my sister too," Jon said quietly and Aegon nodded before the two embraced for a moment.

"A drink Jon?" Oberyn piped up when they broke apart.

"Please," Jon smiled.

"How was the flight?" Oberyn grinned as he poured Jon a tankard of ale.

"Terrifying," Jon said, "at first. Then I grew used to it, slackened my grip a little."

"Good practice for the Wall I suppose," Aegon mused, eyeing the saddle Jon had had fashioned for Rhaenar just before his dragon launched himself back into the air again.

"Aye," Jon agreed after taking a long gulp of ale.

"When will you go?" Oberyn asked.

"When the Lord Commander sends word that the men and weapons have arrived," Aegon told him.

"Hopefully before winter truly sets in," his uncle said darkly.

"I hope so," Aegon agreed.

"What is the plan tomorrow?" Jon asked lightly and Aegon swallowed hard.

"The gates should be opened for us, then we find him, make him confess and then end his worthless life," it was Oberyn who answered.

"Simple but effective," Jon nodded, taking another drink from his tankard, "I like it."

* * *

_The Gift_

* * *

She saw Ygritte first, she was much the same but her features seemed to have softened somehow. Perhaps that was what living south of the Wall did to people. Ygritte's eyes were wide as she stepped towards her, her head shaking incredulously. "We thought you were gone," she said, "we woke and you were gone and no one knew where you were … what happened Val?"

"That's a long story," Val managed to force out before she burst into tears. She was in Ygritte's arms in the next moment and she held on tightly for a long moment before she realised that there was something different about her. Val pulled back, wiping her tears from her cheeks and looking at her quizzically. "His name is Hans," Ygritte said, "Northman from Last Hearth or some fancy castle … one of the guards that stayed here. He just warmed my bed at first but then this happened," she moved her hands to cradle her stomach, "you know what southerners are like … he insisted on marrying me."

"You're married?!" Val said incredulously and she grinned.

"Aye, I am," Ygritte said and Val laughed out in surprise.

"By the Gods Ygritte … I am gone a few months …" she shook her head.

"Slightly more than a few," Ygritte looked serious, "what happened?"

"Much the same as you," she eyed her stomach, "only he didn't marry me."

"Who?" Ygritte whispered, stepping closer.

"The King," Val confessed and her eyes widened.

"A … baby …?" she asked carefully.

"A girl," Val swallowed hard, "the image of her father."

"I don't …" Ygritte tailed off, as though afraid to ask the obvious question.

"I left her," Val said briskly, "she is better off with him, and I couldn't stay down in the south."

"Oh Val," she shook her head, her eyes full of pity.

"Don't look at me like that," Val shook her own head, "it is done now, and I am where I belong."

"But -," she started.

"Don't," Val stopped her, "if you really want to help you can find me a drink, it's been a long journey."

Ygritte merely nodded then and turned to walk back to the camp. It was more than a camp now, huts had sprung up amongst the tents. Some were wooden but others were made of stone, smoke filtering up from the chimneys. Val smiled slightly as she followed Ygritte towards one of the wooden huts, so much had changed. "It can be a bit draughty," Ygritte said as she made her way inside, "but it's warm enough with the fire on and we've been plugging the gaps with clay."

"Wonderful," Val said as she looked around the little two roomed shack. "It's not much yet," Ygritte said as she moved to pour some drinks, "but Hans says we can always add more to it later, perhaps even in stone."

"You're happy," Val stated as she took the drink her friend held out to her and Ygritte nodded her head, an almost blush rising on her cheeks. "You can stay if you'd like?" she raised her brows, "we have a spare straw mattress, you could sleep out here by the fire if you'd like?"

"That's kind of you," Val nodded and Ygritte smiled at her before they both looked away and took a sip on their drinks for a long moment. "How is my nephew?" Val asked after a long moment of silence and Ygritte smiled again. "He's a strong boy, the very image of Mance. Etta thinks he will take his first steps any day and he already has a few words … they are clumsy but," she shrugged, "he's thriving Val, Dalla would have been proud."

"I have no doubt," Val said quietly, taking another sip of her drink and trying to banish the image of her daughter from her mind. It hurt too much to think of her. It hurt far too much. "Was there no way you could have brought her with you?" Ygritte asked her softly.

"If I had taken her Aegon would never have stopped hunting us down," Val said quietly, "I know he will provide everything for her that I couldn't … and I know the Queen will be good to her. I never belonged with him Ygritte, and I wish I could say I regretted it but … but when I held her in my arms," she took a great shuddering breath, "I had never felt love like it … letting her go was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I know in my heart it was the right thing to do."

* * *

_Clegane Hall_

* * *

The gates were rising up just as was promised and Oberyn took deep breath as they rode closer, his eyes caught by the two dragons swooping down low to come to perch on the two gatehouse towers. As they rode under the gates the people seemed to shrink back from them and Oberyn could see the fear in their eyes. They had nothing to fear so long as Clegane was put down. He imagined they were only afraid of what would happen to them if they failed and their master lived on to punish them for their betrayal. Oberyn almost smirked. They would not fail. He would not allow them to fail. For twenty years he had been imagining this moment and he glanced towards his nephew, seeing him pull up his horse and look towards the keep. "Clegane!" Aegon bellowed and even Oberyn almost flinched at the pure fury and loathing in his voice.

For several minutes there was only quiet and their horses pawed nervously at the ground as everyone seemed to hold their breath. The doors to the keep opened almost as though in slow motion and Oberyn narrowed his eyes as the gargantuan man walked through them. He was clad in his armour and helm, his sword in hand that was likely as long as a full grown man. If Oberyn didn't know what repulsive creature resided within that armour then he would likely have been impressed. As it was he was just disgusted. Aegon jumped down from his horse at once and Oberyn and Jon quickly followed suit, as did other members of the guard that had accompanied him. Oberyn and Jon flanked Aegon as he walked towards the Mountain unflinchingly. Jon and Aegon drew their swords and Oberyn reached behind him to pull his spear from his back.

"Take off your helm," Aegon ordered but Clegane made no move to obey him. Oberyn counted five beats of his heart before an arrow soared into the Mountain's chest plate. He knew it wouldn't have done any damage, it only served as a warning. "Take off your helm!" Aegon demanded more impatiently but still he made no move to do as he was ordered. This time Aegon's head jerked upwards and a torrent of flame was sent towards the monster, the deadly heat stopping just inches from him. "Take off your helm," Aegon said for a third time, his voice low and threatening. This time the man moved, pulling off his helm with his free hand and setting his face into that of indifference. Just seeing him infuriated Oberyn and he tightened his grip on his spear.

"It's common courtesy to kneel before your King," Aegon said then and Oberyn smirked despite himself, his nephew certainly had inherited Dornish traits. The Mountain didn't move and this time it was Jon who jerked his head upwards and Rhaenar who sent a stream of flame. "Did you not hear me?" Aegon asked with a raised brow. This time he did kneel and Oberyn moved further to Aegon's left, eyeing up his target. "Do you remember my mother?" Aegon asked and Clegane said nothing, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before he lifted them defiantly. "My sister?" Aegon went on, "that babe at the breast?!"

The dragons let out tremendous roars, rearing up on their hind legs and flapping their wings furiously as though they could sense their masters' rising anger. Jon had said nothing but Oberyn could see how tightly his hand was clenched around his sword, see how tensely his jaw was set as he stared at Clegane with an expression of revulsion on his face. "Elia Martell," Oberyn finally spoke, his voice coming calmly and evenly, "a princess of Dorne … my sister," he almost hissed the last words and the Mountain looked towards him, not one trace of guilt on his repulsive face.

"You raped her," Oberyn stated, "you murdered her daughter and you dashed a babe's head against the wall … and then you raped her with the blood still on your hands," he snarled. "And then you took her life," Oberyn finished in a deadly whisper and still the Mountain showed no flicker of remorse. Oberyn shifted slightly again and readjusted his grip on his spear.

"Confess," Aegon said, "and perhaps I'll make it quick."

"Go to hell," he finally spoke and Oberyn saw red. In mere seconds he had pulled back the spear, taken aim and launched it through the air. It hit right where he wanted it too and there was even more red as blood pulsed from Clegane's neck. He wasn't dead. Not yet at least. Oberyn knew that where he had hit would ensure he bled to death slowly unless mercy was given. He was still on his knees, choking on the blood that was no doubt filling his mouth. Gargled sounds were coming from his mouth and Aegon approached him, Oberyn and Jon on his flanks again. Aegon stretched out his sword and pressed the tip right to the centre of his neck. "Confess," he said darkly and more garbled chokes came from the Mountain's mouth.

"Confess!" Oberyn roared at him, "Confess or I will finish you with my bare hands!"

"I …" he was choking up blood as he tried to speak, "I … ki … killed … them …"

"Now you can go to hell," Aegon snarled before he drove his sword so hard into his neck that it came out of the other side.

He wrenched it free and kicked Clegane's lifeless body hard in the chest to he slumped down to the ground. Aegon turned away then and Oberyn saw Jon clapping him on the back and murmuring something he couldn't quite make out to him as they retreated from the scene. Oberyn stared down at the huge man and finally felt like some justice had been delivered. He was dead at least, that fact alone would probably ensure the lives of hundreds of men and women. There was no place for monsters like him in Aegon's kingdoms. "I want his head," Oberyn said as several of Aegon's men came forward to dispose of the body; "do what you would with his body but his head will adorn the top of Sunspear until it crumbles to dust."

* * *

Aegon had had no desire to sleep within Clegane Hall and so they had retreated back out of the gates and set up camp outside the walls. They would set off in the morning, Oberyn would go straight back to Dorne from here with his guard of men who had remained behind. The other Dornishmen had long since taken their ships home. Aegon looked towards him as he sat by one of the campfires, seeing him staring into the flames. He had no desire to interrupt his uncle, no doubt he was lost in his memories. Aegon sometimes envied him those, he wished he had memories of his mother and sister but all he had were stories. Memories from others. Thanks to that bastard. He looked towards one of the wagons bearing the Dornish belongings and saw the blood stained cloth that was wrapped around the Mountain's head. He had been happy enough to let Oberyn take it, he didn't want such a thing mounted atop King's Landing. Sansa wouldn't like it for a start, and he was trying to prove to the people that he would be a gentle and approachable king.

_Firm but fair. _That was the philosophy with which he had promised to rule. Killing Clegane had been justice, but Aegon didn't need his rotting head on a spike to remind him that justice had been done. Dorne though … Dorne had waited twenty years for their princess to be avenged. No doubt they would revel in such a sight. Aegon sighed heavily and lifted his flagon up to his lips. Another problem dealt with. Now he couldn't wait to go home. He smiled slightly as he realised that the Capitol had become his home. How had that happened? And so quickly. Sansa, he realised. Sansa had made it home for him, Sansa and his little Alerie who were both there waiting for him. He didn't think he had ever missed anyone quite the way he was missing them. When he was younger he supposed he had missed his mother but since he had no memories to miss he had always been easily placated.

Now though, now he could remember holding Sansa all too well. Remember her smile and the way her eyes would fix on him intently whenever she felt his temper was slipping. He could remember the perfect weight of his daughter and how warm she was when she was cradled against his chest. A tiny smile graced his lips as he could almost hear her happy gurgles as though she was right here with him. He wanted to go back, he wanted to hold his daughter in his arms and kiss his wife. He exhaled heavily before taking a long drink, eyeing Jon walking towards him as he lowered the tankard again.

"Alright?" he asked and Aegon saw the apprehension in his eyes.

"Fine," Aegon smiled, "I'm just ready to go home is all."

"You're not the only one," Jon returned, coming to seat himself down next to him.

"There's nothing stopping you," Aegon said, his eyes flickering towards Rhaenar.

"I'll rest here tonight," Jon said.

"Very well," Aegon smiled slightly, he knew damn well Jon was staying for him and he felt immensely grateful for it.

"How is he?" Jon asked then and Aegon turned to see his eyes fixed on Oberyn.

"Quiet," Aegon said honestly, "but then I suppose he has a lot to think about."

"And you don't?" Jon raised his brows.

"It isn't the same," Aegon shook his head, "I know she was my mother but I have nothing to miss."

"I know what you mean," Jon said quietly and Aegon sighed heavily.

"Of course you do," he said quietly.

"We only have the memories and stories of others to cling to," Jon smiled slightly sadly.

"Exactly," Aegon nodded before taking another drink.

They lapsed into silence then, both of them sipping on their ale and disappearing inside their own heads for a while. Aegon was glad Jon was sat at his side though and he could only imagine his brother felt the same because he made no move to walk away. Neither of them moved, save to lift up their tankards, until one of the men approached; "your Grace!" They both snapped their heads to the man who outstretched his hand to hand a letter to Aegon. "Thank you," Aegon took it, turning it over it over in his hands to see Sansa's personal seal of the three headed dragon rising up behind the direwolf of house Stark.

He smiled slightly as he broke the seal, he had just been thinking of how much he missed her and now he had some words from her which he hoped would soothe the ache. "What is it?" Jon asked from his side and Aegon could only assume that his expression was betraying his darkening mood. "Sansa has had word from the Lord Commander," Aegon told him, "it seems neither of us will be going straight home after all."

* * *

**A/N: **So there we have it! Hope you enjoyed, I'll get more up for you as soon as I can!

:)


	74. Holding Their Own

**A/N: **Hey guys! New chapter, hope you all enjoy it (sorry it's been a while!)

**Boramir: **Yep, they get rid of one problem and an even bigger one presents itself! See below for an update on Sansa, and thank you very much!

Right-ho, onwards folks!

:)

* * *

**Holding Their Own**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Sansa rocked Alerie gently, seeing her eyes that were so like Aegon's blinking up at her. She looked utterly content, full of milk and perfectly calm and relaxed in Sansa's arms. True to her word she had come to see her every day, always telling her that her papa would come home soon. She wanted to believe the words she spoke to Alerie but in truth she was worried about when exactly Aegon would come home, especially since she had sent him word about the Wall. Sansa knew that Aegon wanted the threat there ended before winter truly set in. Already the temperature here at the Capitol had dropped a few degrees. It would not be long before she would have to wear furs, the air around her felt more like Winterfell than the south. That only made her think of how cold it must be getting up north and she shuddered slightly. She had to tell herself that everything would be fine, that Starks had survived at Winterfell for thousands of years.

She ceased rocking the baby in her arms as her eyes fluttered closed, something that looked suspiciously like a smile gracing her tiny lips as she drifted to sleep. Sansa moved carefully to place her back in her cradle before tucking her in soundly and moving quietly towards the door. It was time for her to sit in on council and she was rather nervous about it. This would be the first time she had sat there without Aegon and she would be sitting at the head of the table rather than to his right as she usually did. She missed him at her side, missed being at his. Not just in council but at dinner and when they went to worship in the Sept … and at night. She missed him so much at night. The bed always felt so much colder without him, despite how many extra layers of blankets she added to it. She missed sleeping in his arms. Entwining her arms and legs around him and pressing tightly against him. She missed _him. _Far more than she had ever felt possible.

Alerie's nurses all curtseyed politely to her when she entered the living area and she sent them a smile before she walked towards the door and let herself out into the hallway. Loras was waiting outside as ever and she smiled at him too before setting off down the hallway, hearing the light clank of his armour as he followed on after her. She vaguely wondered where her other Kingsguard was. Aegon had ordered that two of them must guard her at all times. Usually Loras would be with her, accompanied by one of the others. Sometimes her other guard was Olyvar and she would always feel intensely uncomfortable whenever she was in his presence. Especially when he was on guard at night. She shook her head slightly as she approached the council chambers, determined to clear it before she went in there and took up her place.

When she pushed open the door the men around the table all sprang up and bowed deeply to her. She smiled at them, hoping that a blush wasn't rising on her cheeks. Queens did not blush. Not in the presence of council anyway, she had to at least look like she was confident in what she was doing. "My Queen," Griff indicated the seat at the head of the table and she raised her head slightly before she sat herself gracefully down and cast her eyes about those present. Her eyes found Tyrion's and he send her an encouraging smile which made her feel rather more relaxed. Willas and Maester Bramwell also sent her small smiled which she endeavoured to return before her attention was caught by Griff clearing his throat.

"I am afraid we must discuss our supplies for the winter my Queen," he said apologetically.

"There are not enough," Sansa guessed and he inclined his head in agreement.

"Our grain stores are fit to burst but one cannot survive on bread alone," Griff told her.

"I thought fruits were being shipped from the Arbor? They are to be preserved into jams are they not?" Sansa asked with a slight frown.

"The ships are delayed, bad weather," Varys spoke up.

"But they will arrive?" she raised a brow.

"With luck my Queen," he said and she sighed heavily.

"Meat is our problem my Queen, we are salting and preserving what we can but the smallfolk are understandably reluctant to slaughter their animals and part with the spoils," Willas told her.

"What about fish?" Sansa frowned, "We are on the coast; a source of food for everyone surrounds us."

"Many fishing fleets were destroyed during Stannis' assault on the Capitol," Griff said.

"Could we afford to build more vessels?" Sansa asked, her eyes sliding to Tyrion.

"We don't have much gold to play with," he told her and she sighed.

"Alright," she nodded, her mind thinking hard as she tried to think of some kind of solution that would benefit everyone. "How about this gentlemen? We use the coin we have to build as many fishing boats as we can to replace those that were lost. The men who take them on can keep what their family needs to survive on a weekly basis and the rest of the haul is handed to the crown. We can use our own merchants to sell on the fish that we do not need to be preserved and saved for winter. They would be paid a fair wage but the majority of profit would come back to us since we own the fishing fleet … would that work?"

"Yes my Queen," Griff looked rather impressed with her and she tried not to look too pleased with herself, "Lord Tyrion … can the coffers cope?"

"So long as a profit is soon seen then I do not see why not," Tyrion answered.

"And perhaps in time we can expand the fleet, I do not think the demand for food will ever be short," Sansa smiled.

"Work for the men and food for the people, and excellent solution my Queen," Griff smiled.

"I'm glad you agree," Sansa smiled back, "now … is there anything else of pressing importance?"

* * *

Sansa sat sewing with Erinne later in the afternoon, feeling rather accomplished after her first council meeting without Aegon. She would write to her husband later and tell him about it, hopefully he would be pleased with her solution and not annoyed that she had sanctioned a brand new venture without asking him about it. He had said that he trusted her to do whatever was necessary in his absence and she certainly felt that this was necessary. Food stocks were something to be taken most seriously. She had seen riots here on the streets before and she had no desire to see such a thing again. So long as the people were kept warm and fed she was confident that they could survive the coming winter and be all the stronger for it come the end. She placed another stitch into her needlework and turned to smile at her companion.

Since Jeyne had gone back to Casterly Rock with her husband Sansa had been spending far more time with Willas Tyrell's betrothed and she enjoyed her company immensely. She imagined that some must find it strange that the Queen and the deposed Queen got on so well but Sansa paid no mind to what they thought. She liked Erinne, and she was to be married to a man her husband trusted and admired and Sansa enjoyed spending some of her free time with her. "How are your plans coming for the wedding?" Sansa asked, sticking her needle into her sewing and turned her full attention to Erinne. "In truth my Queen, I think Willas and I are rather at odds over the whole thing," Erinne told her.

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"I would like to have a small, simple ceremony. Just the two of us and our close family and friends. I do not want a huge celebration … I have been through all that before with Stannis … I suppose I just feel selfish, Willas has never been married before and he wants a grand occasion but I don't. I just don't see the point. All I want is to be his wife, all the splendour and the grandeur means nothing to me," Erinne told her.

"And have you told him that? Exactly the way you just told me?" Sansa questioner her.

"No," Erinne shook her head and Sansa smiled at her.

"Then perhaps you should," she advised, "I think he would like to hear it."

"Thank you my Queen," Erinne smiled back, relief evident on her face.

"You're most welcome," Sansa said as a knock came on the door; "come!" she called out.

The door opened after a moment and Sansa swallowed hard, trying to look serene and unaffected as Olyvar came into the room in what she could only describe as a cautious manner. "Is something wrong Ser?" she asked him as he approached, doing her best to try and avoid making eye contact with him whilst not rousing Erinne's suspicions. "A letter for you, my Queen," Olyvar told her, holding out the carefully folded parchment. Sansa recognised Aegon's seal and was on her feet at once and almost snatching the letter from Olyvar's grip. She thanked him distractedly as she hurriedly cracked the seal and read down through the note. "Is everything alright?" Erinne asked from the sofa and Sansa swallowed hard, knowing that her dismay was likely showing on her face.

"The King is going straight to the Wall now that Gregor Clegane has been dealt with," she told her, a slightly shake in her voice; "he doesn't know how long he will be …" Sansa had to stop then, tears were stinging at her eyes now and she avoided the gaze of Erinne and Olyvar, turning her attention instead to carefully folding the letter back up. She took a step back towards the sofa then but swayed slightly, her head spinning as strong hands came to her shoulders to steady her and guide her back into her seat. "Are you alright my Queen?" Olyvar asked her insistently, kneeling down in front of her. "I'm fine," she said, blinking her vision back to normal and forcing a smile, "if that is all Ser, do not let me keep you," she continued.

He seemed to hesitate slightly but soon rose back to his feet, bowing down to Sansa and Erinne before he backed from the room and closed the door firmly behind him. "Are you sure you're alright?" Erinne asked her concernedly, "I can have them call for the Maester if you'd like?"

"No need for the Maester," Sansa told her, "I know the reason I felt faint … it is because I'm with child."

* * *

_Pyke_

* * *

Victarion stirred awake, starting slightly when he caught sight of Helena stood stark naked at the end of his bed with an utterly furious expression on her face. "What?" he asked her groggily and she narrowed her eyes at him, folding her arms, the action making her breasts appear even more enticing than usual. "You said you'd marry me," she said icily and he sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slowly sat up in bed. "Come here," he said commandingly and she seemed to hesitate for a moment before she did as she was told, wandering towards him and kneeling on the side of the bed. He grabbed her almost roughly and pulled her astride him. She snatched her wrists out of his grip and glared at him.

"I will marry you when I'm good and ready," he told her firmly, meeting her eyes. Helena looked as though she was about to protest so he grabbed her face in his hands and practically dragged her mouth to his. She fought against him for a moment but he held on and after a while she was kissing him back, her lips parting to allow his tongue to come and massage her own. Just as he thought he was getting his own way she shoved him away from her so hard he fell back against the pillows. He was about to chastise her but she pulled the blankets down from around his waist and shifted her hips, rocking them against his own and making him unbearably hard. When a groan escaped his mouth she moved her body down against his, kissing and nipping her way up his chest, the sting of her teeth making him hiss out in frustration.

She moved her mouth up to his ear, teasing his lobe gently between her teeth as she ground her hips slowly against his hardness, causing him to groan out again. "I killed for you," she whispered in his ear, her hot breath driving him almost wild; "and I would do it again and again … all you have to do is ask … you think you could find another who would do that for you?" she asked him before she bit down hard on his earlobe, causing him to dig his own fingertips hard into the flesh of her hips. She pushed back up against his chest and he watched her with steadily darkening eyes as she trailed her fingers down between her breasts and down her stomach until they came between her legs. He watched as she moved them against herself for a long moment before trailing her fingers up his chest, leaving a trail of her arousal up towards his collarbone. God she was good.

Helena shifted her hips up and finally lowered herself down onto his length, digging her fingernails deep into his chest as she began to rock hard against him. His own hands pulled her roughly onto him as she scraped her nails down his chest. A groan left his mouth, from the sting of her nails or the tightness of her surrounding him he didn't know. She picked up her pace even further, rocking so hard that the bedframe smashed against the stone wall. She would wake the entire keep with the crashing and the moans of pleasure coming from her lips but he could hardly care because he was utterly enthralled by her. Helena was no lady. But then, he was hardly a traditional lord. The people wouldn't care, not so long as she bore him fine sons. She would bear him fine sons, he was certain of it. Women as strong as Helena were a rare breed, even here on the Iron Islands.

She was crying out breathlessly as she began to clench around him and he knew she was almost spent. He was utterly exhausted as he released himself deep into her and in the next moment she pushed away from him, his length slipping from her as she collapsed down on the bed next to him, breathing hard. Victarion hardly noticed the bleeding scratches that marked the length of his chest as he fought to regain his own breath. They were nothing compared to the pleasure she had just brought him. Helena was wild in the bedchamber and was clever enough outside it. He couldn't see himself ever growing bored of that. He couldn't see himself ever wanting to give that up. "Get dressed," he told her after several minutes of silence; "I will take you down to the beach and marry you right now if it will shut you up."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Theon opened the door of the house, smiling tiredly towards Adele who was washing up the plates and pots that he assumed were from breakfast. There certainly was a lingering smell of food in the air in his stomach growled angrily. Gods he hated doing the night watch. "Your breakfast is by the fire keeping warm," she told him before he could utter a word and his smile widened gratefully. "Thank you," he said heavily as he stamped towards the fire, seeing Darion sat up on the floor with his back against the sofa, wooden blocks surrounding him. His son beamed up at him as Theon passed by him to take his plate of breakfast from the top of the metal guard Jory had recommended he invest in since Darion had started crawling. Adele had been trying to teach him "no" but their son seemed to lack caution so far and so Theon had invested in the guard in the end. It would still burn him if he touched it but at least it would not be as hot as the flames it shielded.

"How did he sleep last night?" Theon asked Adele as he settled in the chair by the fire and grinned at his boy who was now fixated on building a tower with his blocks. "Well enough," she replied as she set another clean plate aside, "he woke once but he was easily settled. How was your shift?"

"Long," he said after he swallowed his mouthful, "dull, boring …"

"Do go on my love, it sounds fascinating," she said wryly and he chuckled before shovelling some more food into his mouth.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked when his plate was almost empty.

"No I don't think so, aside from sleep I imagine," she smiled knowingly as she dried her hands on her apron and crossed to sit down on the sofa.

"You're not wrong," he said heavily.

"I will take him out in a while to see his grandfather, give you some time to sleep," she told him.

"Thank you," he said gratefully and she smiled again.

Theon polished off the last of his food before he cast his eyes back over his wife and son. Adele was watching Darion's progress with the blocks with an expression of pride on her face that made him smile. Gods he loved them so much, his little family. It had not been so long ago that he had thought he would never get to have these moments, and even though he was exhausted he was also incredibly happy. Working extra hours was worth it if it meant he could afford more comforts for Adele and their boy. Winter was coming swiftly and he was determined that every inch of their home be warm and comfortable when the snows and the freezing temperatures came. He had already ordered fur lined fleece blankets from the seamstress to go in Darion's cradle and he and Jory had clubbed together some coin to buy a store that they could fill with firewood over the next months.

He sighed happily as Darion exclaimed happily as he completed his tower, clapping his chubby little hands together and grinning up at Adele in a self-satisfied manner. "Aren't you a clever little boy?" she cooed down on him and Theon couldn't help but smile as he reached up his hands to her. She pulled him up onto her lap at once and smothered his face in kisses. Darion began squawking in protest after a while, scrabbling his little hands against her cheeks and she ceased what she was doing, pulling back from him with a smile on her face. Their son snuggled down against her chest after a long minute of fussing, sticking his fingers in his mouth and chewing on them as he blinked in a rather lazy manner towards Theon. "Have you had enough?" Adele drew his attention, eyeing his empty plate.

"Aye," he smiled, "thank you, it was wonderful."

"It was my pleasure," she smiled back, "the least I can do since you're working so hard."

"I'm happy to do it," he assured her, "I only want to provide the best for you and Darion."

"I know you do," she said, "but I miss you when you're not here … we both do."

"It won't be forever," he promised her, "but you know we need the extra coin with winter coming."

"I know," she sighed, "and I have spoken with the seamstress, she is so busy with everything that she could use an assistant. I offered to help her, I can do all the work here so I will still be able to be with Darion and it will take some of the pressure off you."

"You don't have to do that," Theon told her at once and she rolled her eyes.

"I _want _to do it," she told him, "I enjoy sewing anyway, I may as well make some coin from it."

"Thank you," he told her meaningfully, meeting his eyes.

"It is not a problem," she returned with a playful smile as a knock came at the door; "stay there," she ordered him at once, rising up and depositing Darion on his lap on her way around to answer the door. "This is a surprise," she said brightly when she pulled it open; "we were not expecting you, come in."

Theon smiled himself when Robb entered but it soon faded when he saw the look on his friend's face. He stood up at once, shifting Darion onto his hip and frowning at Robb, hoping that there was nothing serious wrong. "What's happened?" he asked Robb at once as soon as Adele had closed the front door. "My father received word from Pyke, from your uncle," Robb told him and Theon nodded. He had been expecting this news, the news that his father had been placed in chains and was being sailed across to the mainland to face Lord Stark's justice. "When will he arrive?" Theon asked, determinedly avoiding Adele's eyes, knowing sympathy would be dancing in them. "Your father isn't coming Theon," Robb told him slowly, "he's … dead."

"Right," Theon said, barely even blinking. Was he supposed to care? Balon Greyjoy had never truly been his father, if he had have been then he never would have locked him away and tried to keep him from his wife and son. If he had been a real father then Asha would still be alive. Theon tightened his grip on Darion a little before turning his eyes back to Robb. "Thank you for telling me I suppose," he shrugged and Robb seemed to hesitate, his fingers playing with the leather pouch that Theon had only just noticed in his hands. "There is more," Robb said awkwardly and Theon raised his brows expectantly; "your mother …" Robb said and he inhaled sharply, "your uncle believed that they took their own lives with nightshade …"

"You mean he wanted out so he took her with him," Theon spat out and Robb bit his lip.

"I don't know," he shook his head.

"Yes you do," Theon smiled wryly, shaking his own head.

"I'm sorry Theon," Robb said and he couldn't doubt the sincerity in his friend's voice.

"I barely remember her," Theon tried to sound unaffected.

"You were sent this," Robb set the pouch down on the table with a clink, "some inheritance."

"Blood money?" Theon raised a brow.

"Who cares?" Robb shrugged his shoulders, "You will need it now winter is coming, don't be stubborn Theon … put it to good use."

Theon said nothing and Robb sighed heavily after a moment, turning to look at Adele in an almost desperate manner. "Thank you for coming Robb," she said softly, laying her hand on his arm for a moment. "I will leave you in peace," Robb murmured, casting one more worried look in Theon's direction before he turned to let himself out of the house. "Sit down," Adele told him as soon as they were alone and he did as he was told without question. She came to perch herself on the arm of the chair after a moment and wrapped an arm about his shoulders, leaning her head down against his. "I know you don't want to talk now," she said softly, pressing a kiss to his hair, "but when you do I'm here. I will always be here I promise you Theon … I love you."

"I love you," he murmured back after a long moment, clutching Darion closer to his chest as Adele rubbed her thumb in firm circles against his shoulder. The action was incredibly soothing and he tried to make his body relax completely under her touch. "I can barely remember her," he said after several quiet minutes; "she brought me into the world and I can barely remember her."

"I know," Adele whispered, "and I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," Theon said after a time, "is that monstrous? Is it wicked that I am not sorry Lord Stark took me as a ward and raised me far away from my family? Is it wrong to feel like I belong here?"

"Of course not," she soothed him.

"I could never have had both," he said, pulling his head from under hers and tilting it up to meet her concerned eyes, "you can't be two people Adele."

"I know," she nodded her agreement.

"I chose to be Theon Greyjoy, town guard at Winterfell … a husband and a father, and I know in my heart that I made the right choice," he said, his eyes not moving from hers.

"I'm glad," she whispered.

"I'm finally free from him aren't I?" he said wondrously and she nodded her head, "I am finally free to be the man I always wanted to be."

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

Benjen looked towards the south, squinting his eyes against the cold slivers of sunlight that were breaking through the morning sky. It was clear and he could see for miles, his gaze flickering on the horizon as he just stood there waiting on top of the Wall. Even from up here he could hear the sounds of the men drilling. Since the Ironborn had arrived practice seemed to last hours longer, not that Benjen would complain about it. Savage as some of them were, he knew that the Ironborn were the best men to teach the green boys he had here. He had some experience in the form of the men Aegon had left behind but many of them had moved down towards the Gift. Their primary concern was ensuring the wildlings were settled before winter really set in. The snows had been falling in flurries recently, some of it sticking but most trickling away. Beyond the Wall would be covered by now, he was sure of it.

He hadn't sent any men out ranging for a long while so what was happening beyond was a mystery to him. Soon they would march out, march out and face armies of the dead. How many of them there were he did not know. At least now they had the means to dispatch them, and soon enough they would have aid coming that could rid them of the wights. Almost as he thought that his eye was caught but slight movement on the horizon. He fixed his gaze on the spot in the far distance, a small smile coming to his face as the specks grew bigger and bigger. Three of them, flapping closer towards him with every beat of his heart. He had been expecting only two but there were definitely three of them. Three dragons. As they swopped closer he could see that only two of them were mounted as they circled above Castle Black before coming slowly down to land in the courtyard. Benjen moved towards the lift at once. It seemed like the fight against the walkers would be beginning sooner than he thought.

* * *

**A/N: **I honestly have nothing written from this point on, the walkers are daunting to say the least. I will do my best to get something to you next week though!

:)


	75. Burn

**A/N: **Hey guys! So, so sorry that this has taken so long to get up. Truth be told this whole deal with the white walkers has been so incredibly daunting for me to write because I have pretty much nothing to go on canon wise. Anyway, I'm giving it a shot ... this chapter is kind of the build up I suppose, the action will really kick in in the next one (which I have not even started yet!) I do hope to get it written over the weekend, hopefully I can get on a roll with it and it will just flow from me. This chapter did not flow as well as I'd hope (I suppose it did in parts but I really struggled with some bits.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and hopefully my next update will be a little swifter!

**Boramir: **Thank you! Glad you liked Sansa's food solution and I imagine Aegon would approve. Given the manner he was raised and how he spent the majority of his life I don't think he would end up being the stuck-up type who sees such investments as beneath him. I think in time he would be more than happy to make more of them and sort out the crowns financial troubles once and for all.

Right-ho ... hope you enjoy this one.

:)

* * *

**Burn**

* * *

_The Wall_

* * *

"Your Grace," Benjen greeted as he stepped off the lift and walked towards the King, his eyes darting nervously up towards the dragons who had now settled themselves down atop the walls of Castle Black after depositing their riders. "My Lord Commander," Aegon inclined his head to him and Benjen did the same before his eyes slid to Jon, a smile tugging up on his lips. "_Ser _Jon," he emphasised and his nephew grinned widely at him as he came forward so they could meet in an embrace for a moment. "Would you both come inside? We can talk properly, and in relative comfort," Benjen said and the two men agreed, following him towards the keep.

Up the stairs to his own quarters Benjen led them, pushing open the door and gesturing them in. He bid them take the seats by the fire as he crossed to pour them some drinks, returning with full tankards of ale and settling himself down next to them. "How was the journey?" Benjen asked at the moment, looking between them and seeing that Jon appeared to be the far more relaxed of the two. "Tiring," it was Jon who answered, "but we got here."

"I was only expecting two dragons," Benjen said.

"Viserion joined us, that's how we knew we must have passed over Winterfell," Jon said.

"You did not stop?" he raised his brows.

"We will stop on the way back," Jon replied and Benjen smiled at the determination lacing his voice.

"What is the plan to dispatch the walkers?" Aegon asked then.

"We need to draw them in before we can finish them, if we all march out and scour the wilds looking for them we will be dead in a week," Benjen said.

"And how do we draw them in?" Jon frowned slightly.

"Fire," Benjen said simply.

"Life," Jon nodded his head in understanding.

"We have already gathered the wood we need, it will be dragged on skis, a league from the Wall where we will build and ignite a huge pyre. Likely the wights will come first but the walkers will follow," Benjen told them and they both nodded.

"And when do you propose we do this my Lord?" Aegon asked him.

"Sundown," Benjen said and again he was met with nodding.

"Perfect," Aegon seemed to grimace slightly, "is there anything else I need to know?"

"I can think of nothing your Grace, the men are drilled and ready … all we can do is wait," Benjen said.

"Then if you will excuse me, I think I will rest a while," Aegon stood to leave.

"Of course your Grace, the chambers you occupied before are set aside for you," Benjen nodded.

"Thank you my Lord," Aegon managed a faint smile before he walked for the door.

Benjen waited until it was firmly closed behind him and he was sure that the King had gone before he turned his attention to Jon who had also seemingly kept his eyes on the King's retreat. Jon turned and met his eyes, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "He's been like that since the Mountain was dealt with," Jon told him, "he can barely muster a smile. The truth is he wants to go home … he misses his family and he is uneasy about being away from the Capitol for so long. Sansa has written to reassure him but it does no good … the sooner this is done with the better."

"I cannot promise a quick fight, nor an easy one," Benjen cautioned and Jon nodded his agreement; "how are your own family?" he continued and he watched as his nephew's eyes lit up, a wide smile stretching across his face. "They are well," Jon said, "Steffon seems to have mastered crawling and is using it to drive Margaery to distraction … I think he might walk while I'm away; she said in her last letter that he had begun hauling himself onto his feet using the furniture."

"A lot's changed since I last saw you," Benjen sighed, smiling slightly regretfully; "I never thought you'd leave the North Jon …" he trailed off, gazing at his nephew, his heart simultaneously glad for him and aching for the sister he had lost so long ago. "I never did either," Jon agreed, "and it will forever be something I miss but … my place is with my wife and her son."

"Not many men would have done what you have," Benjen said.

"Believe me uncle, any number of men would have gladly taken Margaery," Jon chuckled.

"Her perhaps, but her son?" Benjen raised his brows.

"They are one and the same … love her, love him," Jon shrugged and it was Benjen's turn to chuckle.

"Your mother would have been proud," he said seriously after a moment.

"Thank you," Jon said quietly, sincerely.

"And how is my niece settling into her new role?" Benjen asked, changing the subject.

"I think Sansa was born to be Queen, Aegon certainly thinks so," Jon said.

"How is it with … the babe?" Benjen dropped his voice.

"Sansa is wonderful with her, she bears no resentment at all," Jon replied, meeting his eyes.

"That takes strength … Gods … what high reaching nieces and nephews I have," he chuckled.

"Have you heard you're a great uncle now?" Jon asked with a grin.

"Aye, I have, the news came last week," he grinned back.

"Hopefully it doesn't make you feel too old," Jon's grin widened.

"Cheek!" Benjen retorted before he barked out a laugh, Jon joining in after a moment.

* * *

Aegon lay back on the bed and tried to close his eyes. He was exhausted but sleep was refusing to come, it had been refusing to come for days. What he wanted was to be back at the Capitol, back with his wife and daughter. Sansa's latest letter to him had been full of reassurances that everything was fine. She had said she missed him, that Alerie was thriving and that they couldn't wait for him to come home. It had been a bittersweet message but it had at least reassured him that his family were well, even if he was away from them. Then he had received the letter from Griff. His Hand had relayed the latest matters of importance to him, told him that Sansa was holding her own in council and coming up with ideas for making investments and bolstering supplies for the winter. He was beyond proud when he read that.

Then he had read further down and a frown and a nagging sense of unease had settled inside him that he could not seem to shake no matter how hard he tried. _The Queen did miss one council session, her attendants informed us that she was feeling unwell. Her Grace was present at the next but I have to confess she seemed rather paler than usual. I don't wish to worry you Aegon, but you asked me to tell you everything. _The thought of Sansa being ill … he shuddered. The thought of her being sick, being weak and alone … needing him. He wanted to be back with her more than anything, there were things he needed to say. Things that could not be said in a letter. Every time he closed his eyes he would dream the worst. He would dream of returning triumphant after defeating the walkers only to find the Capitol swathed in black. Mourning their Queen.

He shuddered again. He knew he was being irrational. Overreacting. He couldn't help it though. Ordinarily hearing that Sansa was feeling a little unwell would not trouble him to this extent, but as everyone kept reminding him, winter is coming. All bad things were made worse by winter, he knew that. A simple cough could set in deep and in a week it could claim a life. A simple sickness could worsen and drag the life away from a person. He pressed his hands to his face and rubbed them up and down determinedly, refusing to see those bleak images behind his eyes anymore. Sansa would be fine. She was Queen. The best Maesters surrounded her, they would keep her healthy and well and when he returned she would be there just as he had left her. Just perfect.

* * *

Jon lined up with everybody else to get his dragonglass weapon, thanking the smith for the sword he handed over to him, weighing in in his hands as he glanced over to where Aegon stood with his uncle Benjen. Aegon had claimed he had gone to rest but Jon could tell that he had not slept a wink. If he had not known that his brother would refuse point blank then he would consider asking him to stay behind. The last thing they needed was him distracted on the battlefield. The kingdoms were finally settling into some kind of order, the last thing they needed was for their King to get himself slaughtered by the walkers. Not to mention what it would do to Sansa and the rest of the family. Jon shuddered slightly as he remembered that it would make him King …

It did not bear thinking about.

"Right, listen everyone!" Benjen drew the attention of everyone gathered in the vast courtyards, standing on the back of one of the wood carts to better allow his voice to carry. Jon looked towards him expectantly along with everyone else and waited for what he had to say. "The tunnel will soon be opened and we will march out – together! We set a steady pace and we leave none behind! You have your orders, those of you on fire duty must keep it burning bright at all times! The flames will draw all manner of things but you have to remember that they are all your enemies! The wights can reanimate those who have fallen! You may see lost brothers! You may see women and children! It matters not, they are lost to the Gods already, their souls perished and their bodies used by unnatural forces! You must kill them all, do not hesitate lest you join them! Good luck brothers!"

Jon roared along with everyone else, even the Ironborn beating on their chest plates at Benjen's words. His uncle came from atop the cart then as the familiar clanking noise of the tunnel opening drew Jon's attention. He remembered this from last time, remembered the pounding of his heart and the sweatiness of his palms as he had gripped tightly to his horses reins. Back then he had less to lose. Margaery's image sprang to his mind as he remembered her sweet farewell …

"_I love you, come back to me safe and well … I need you Jon, in a way I never thought I would need anyone," she met his eyes, her hand coming up to cup his cheek and he saw the sincerity shining from every pore of her. What had he done to deserve her? "What have I done to deserve you?" he voiced his thoughts and she smiled slightly, stepping closer to him and pressing her soft lips to his …_

If he closed his eyes he could almost taste her sweetness on his lips, see her smile and hear Steffon laugh. He would stay alive for them, no matter what it took. Never had he thought he would be allowed a family and now he had it he would be damned if he ever let it go. "Line up – march!" Benjen ordered and his second in command led the way under the tunnel as it rose just high enough to allow men to pass through if they bowed their heads. One hundred were staying behind at the Wall, and again Jon wished that his brother was one of them. He moved to his side and nudged him in the ribs as they stood by and watched hundreds upon hundreds of men filing passed them.

"Don't say it," Aegon said at once and Jon smiled slightly wryly, looking up at him and seeing his face set in determination. "You need to be focused," Jon murmured to him, "believe me … I would rather be anywhere else as well but we are here and we have a job to do."

"I know," Aegon nodded determinedly and Jon sighed. "Well if you won't stay behind I suppose we'd best call them," he said and again his brother nodded, his eyes roving up towards the top of the keep where Rhaegal was perched, his beady eyes watching the men marching out. Aegon whistled through his teeth and his dragon outstretched his wings at once and glided down into the courtyard, the men filing out now moving slightly more quickly. Jon smiled slightly and whistled for his own mount, hearing the flap of Rhaenar's wings long before he came into view.

Aegon was mounted and ready to launch into the air as Rhaenar circled overhead and as soon as Rhaegal took off his brother came in to land. Jon approached him at once, patting him on the flank to which he breathed a stream of smoke from his nostrils before he bent lower so Jon could clamber onto the back of him. He still wasn't used to flying. It seemed so unnatural but Targaryen's had done it for hundreds of years before the supposed end of the dragons. Even so he steeled himself, gripping tight to the reins of the saddle that was fitted as Rhaenar spread his wings and launched himself up into the air.

The cold air hit him in a rush and Jon moved one hand to pull the muffler around his neck up against his face to keep the worst of the wind chill from his as Rhaenar flew on after Rhaegal. They had flown a league in no time, both dragons flying in large circles above the spot the men of the Watch were marching towards. After a time Viserion joined them, roaring out a greeting that the other two responded to enthusiastically. Jon hoped that Dany knew where her dragon had gone. He had sent word to her but she would not have received it yet. Likely she knew, likely someone at Winterfell would have seen the other two fly over and seen Viserion join them.

Slowly the long trickle of black crept ever closer to where they were circling and when they finally seemed to be coming to a halt and congregating Jon encouraged Rhaenar to land again, as Aegon did the same on the other side of him. When they landed they slipped off, seeing the men at the front of the arriving hoard already setting about building a huge fire. Jon hoped it would work, that it would attract their enemy so it could be destroyed once and for all. They knew, or at least hoped they knew, that there would be more wights than walkers. Wights would be easily dispatched by the dragons, it was their creators that had everyone nervously shuffling from foot to foot and glancing agitatedly about the place.

Jon let his own eyes dart about, trying not to feel paranoid as it felt like all the hairs on the back of his neck were sticking up on end. "Can you feel it?" Aegon murmured from his side and he nodded, not needing to ask what his brother meant. Obviously he felt just as on edge, as though they were being watched. _Stalked. _"Winter is coming alright," Jon said quietly and it was Aegon's turn to nod, his gloved hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword. "Something tells me that we might not need that fire after all," Aegon said uneasily.

"I don't think you're the only one," Jon agreed, his eyes glancing around and seeing that several men had already pulled out their weapons. They were falling back into position, creating one huge circle around the building bonfire in the middle, all eyes alert and ready for the slightest hint of something shifting in the distance. It was as he moved himself back towards the dragons with Aegon that Jon realised that there was no wind. The night was still. Freezing, but still. Not even a rustle came from the nearby trees. There was not as much as a call of a bird or a howl of a wolf. Nothing but silence, the only noise coming from the men who were stocking up the fire.

Jon swallowed hard and exchanged another uneasy look with Aegon as they came to stand next to their dragons. "Perhaps we should be ready?" Aegon suggested and Jon swallowed hard and nodded. He had never heard his brother afraid before but he was sure that he hadn't imagined the hint of fear that had laced his voice just then. They met eyes for a moment before turning away to their dragons. Jon wanted to say a million things to him but he couldn't get any of them out as they locked eyes again once they had hauled themselves up. Jon looked away and towards where his uncle Benjen was directing the others and took a deep breath. He was ready now. He just wanted it to be over.

* * *

Benjen instructed the torches to be lit as the bonfire was built up almost as high as the men who were stacking it and stretching out nearly a hundred feet in width. "Stand back!" he called to those who were without torches and they back away as Gren came forwards to douse the wood with oil. Benjen swallowed hard before he nodded with those with the torches, Gren backing away to come and stand at his side. "Light it up," Benjen said and they put the torches to the wood at once, the oil igniting and beginning to smoulder at once. They stepped back and away, eyes roving out beyond the fire, looking for any hint of movement in the darkness. Benjen watched the flames lick around the wood, the spirals of smoke rising higher in the sky as the fire began to rise steadily higher. _Come on you bastards._

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Ned was walking with Robb back towards the keep when they saw it, both of them almost stumbling over their feet as it happened. What it was Ned couldn't explain, and his son was just as perplexed as he was at his side. What in the name of the Gods was happening? "What is it?" Robb voiced from beside him and he tore his eyes from the sky and looked towards him, seeing how pale he was even in the darkness. "I have no idea," Ned confessed, not quite able to keep the shake from his voice. "Do you think it means something?" Robb persisted.

"It doesn't mean anything good, I can promise you that," Ned said heavily, turning his eyes back to the moon which was being ever increasingly swallowed up by the fast moving darkness. "I have heard of the moon blocking out the sun … but this …" Ned trailed off, shaking his head. It was unnatural. Wrong, and it chilled him right to the core of his very bones. "The others?" Robb asked so quietly that Ned imagined he would have been forgiven for pretending not to hear him. "The Gods save us," he said instead, somehow knowing his son's thought was likely a true one.

"The Gods save us," Robb agreed, his eyes still transfixed on the skies as the moon was finally swallowed up; "the Gods save us all."

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

The flames were rising steadily higher, the only light now that the moon had been completely obscured. Something had passed over it and whatever it was it still remained. The men shifted uneasily, eyes darting up to the skies as though they were hoping it would reappear again at any moment. Benjen knew it wouldn't. Somehow he doubted they would ever see light again unless the Others were sent back to whatever hell they had emerged from. They had to succeed. For the sake of humanity they had to succeed in driving them back. The flames were sweltering as he stood so close and so he took a step back, his hand coming to wipe across his sweaty brow.

Nearby other men were tossing more wood onto the huge pyre and Benjen could see that their supply was running low already. Hopefully he hadn't made a mistake. What if they were just waiting for the light to die, waiting to sneak up on them in the darkness and claim them all for their own dead armies? He shuddered despite the heat. It did not bear thinking about. He couldn't afford to have made a mistake, he had to have done the right thing for his own sake and the sake of all his men and the sake of the seven kingdoms and the rest of the world. This _had _to be the right thing.

He stepped back further from the fire and it was then he saw it. All of a sudden he was transported back almost a year when he had seen the horror with his own eyes at Craster's Keep. Only this time, this time he knew there was more than one. Movement caught his eye from all directions and he could tell from the murmurs and the odd panicked shout from the men that they had seen it too. Benjen trained his own eyes on the faint blue pinpricks in the distance, seeing them drawing slowly closer. He noticed the mist swirling then. Where had that come from?

Through the mist he could see shapes, dark masses that seemed to ever increase and thousands of little blue pinpricks shining dully through it. So it had worked. Now he was almost wishing it hadn't. He heard the roar of the dragon. The swoosh of wings. He heard the sound of thousands of swords being unsheathed, hundreds of bow strings drawn back. He felt the fire, not just from the pyre in front of him but from above. He heard shouts. Screams. Death. His own hand came to the hilt of his sword and he unsheathed it as the creature to which the blue pinpricks belonged finally emerged from the mist.

* * *

**A/N: **Bit of a cliffhanger I know, hopefully I can get some action written up for you over the weekend! Until next time...

:)


	76. Cold Night

**A/N: Please Read!** Hey guys, I had an unexpected message at the weekend letting me know that three of my stories have been nominated for awards at the Fanatic Fanfics Multifandom Awards (fanaticfanficsawards . blogspot . co . uk). 'My Kingdom Come', 'Paying the Toll' and 'Truth Breeds Lies' have all been nominated for 'All-Time Favourite Game of Thrones Fanfic' and 'Favourite Romance Fanfic'. It is amazing just to be considered but if you think any of my stories are worthy of a chance of winning then I would ask you please to go and vote for them and hopefully help get them through to the next round of voting. Thanks so much for reading!

**Boramir: **Thank you, I did leave a bit of a cliffhanger there didn't I? The Starks would have been informed but Benjen needs the dragons, they have the added problem of only having a limited supply of dragonglass as well, and numbers won't help unless they are properly equipped. You shall find out just below if they have enough to deal with the problem...

Right, once again, I have almost nothing to go on from canon so this is from my own head and (after seeing last nights episode) a bit of what they came up with for tv. Hopefully you like it, seriously...these last few chapters have been so far out of my comfort zone it's unreal.

Anyway, I'll shut up now and let you read it.

:)

* * *

** Cold Night**

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

It burst into a thousand icy pieces. Each one like a diamond shimmering in the dancing light of the flames surrounding them. Fire or ice, which would prevail? Fire seemed to be engulfing everything and Benjen could hear the roar of the dragons drowning out the shouts of the men. He could even hear them above his own heartbeat which was pounding more loudly now than he had ever felt it before. Somehow he managed to take a breath, ramming his sword through another body. This one was just a wight and he somehow managed to twist his own body round and kick the creature from his sword and into the nearby flames.

His hair ruffled in the next moment as a dragon flew overhead and he was distracted despite himself, his eyes following the winged creature. From here he couldn't tell whether it was ridden or not. Despite the constant flame the darkness was still threatening to engulf everything. The cold was sinking deep into his bones despite being mere feet from searing flames. He watched another torrent of fire come from the dragon that had sailed over his head, the brightness illuminating the dead, rotting flesh for a moment before it crumbled into dust. Into nothing. The wights were putting up near no resistance, and although Benjen knew not all the bodies littering the ground were foes, he knew more of his own men were left standing.

The walkers were what they needed to stop, they needed to finish them before they could raise anymore dead souls to fight for them. They needed to stop them before they sucked all of the light and the warmth from the world. So many years ago he had sworn to protect the Wall and defend all those behind it from the horrors beyond. Never in his wildest imagination had he imagined that one day that would entail fighting the walkers. They were myth. Legend of long ago, a tale exaggerated to frighten children. This nightmare he was now in the midst of was a tale worthy of Old Nan. Benjen had the strangest desire to laugh, thinking that even she of all people may have found such a thing utterly farfetched.

Many of the walkers seemed to have mounts, dead, skeletal things that looked so crushable and yet so invincible at the same time. It was they who seemed to hold back, watching the carnage before them. Their lack of movement unnerved Benjen but he tried not to be distracted by them as he plunged his sword into wight after wight. It became a sick sort of routine after a while. Stab a body. Toss it in the fire. He never lingered to watch them burn, even long dead flesh stung the nostrils as it fizzled and burned into nothing. After a time he had to draw breath, scan the scene around him and allow a tiny bubble of hope to swell as he saw the burning waste between his own men and the walkers. The wights were all but done, those crawling to try and escape the flame were quickly tossed back into the fires as the three dragons swooped down low again and scorched the area once more.

Benjen could see the look of relief on the faces of his men although there were still uneasy looks to be had as they slowly turned their eyes towards their next challenge. Dead or not, the walkers knew how to wield the weapons they carried and Benjen could see the mass of some of them. Some almost seemed half giant. He swallowed hard and gripped his dragonglass blade yet more tightly in his hand. The creatures they were facing across the dying wall of flame were stood still and waiting. Silent. Cold. The most unnerving sight Benjen had ever encountered. Facing a hundred thousand wildlings had been less daunting than this and from what he could see the walkers only numbered in the hundreds. Whether this was all of them was impossible to know but he was not relishing the challenge either way.

Somehow he managed to urge calm to those closest to him, the fear really starting to register in the eyes of his men now as the fire began to die. The moon had been obscured long ago and there were no stars in sight to give them even the faintest bit of light should this fire die. It was all consuming darkness and it was coming for them swiftly. Still the walkers stood stock still and made no move to come for them. Somehow Benjen knew they wouldn't until there was no longer light to guide them. Either they had to make the first move, or somehow find some light to show them the way. How could they fight blind with only those icy blue pinpricks to identify their foe?

"_Light, we need light!" _His men were hissing to one another now, the whispers and the panicked murmurings growing louder. "Stay calm," he urged them, swallowing hard and trying to think of what was best to do. The dragons could toss flames out across the sky but there would still be moments where they could not see and they could not afford to be blinded. There was only one thing he could think to do. It could destroy everything for hundreds of leagues but at this point what choice did he have? It would not be the end of the world…but the walkers…well they damn well could be. "The trees," he murmured to himself, snapping his head to his nearest brother as the pyres burned even lower; "Get word to Ser Jon and the King, they need to set fire to the trees."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Dany paced up and down the parlour, barely concentrating on what any of the others were saying as she clutched Edric to her chest and tried desperately to soothe him. He had been screaming all night. Since the darkness had come. Even her tiny son knew that there was something wrong and it was breaking her heart that she could do nothing to settle him. He seemed to lurch between pitiful whimpers and outright screaming and his distress seemed to be tearing her apart from the inside. "Hush please…please my darling boy it will be alright," she soothed him, desperately bouncing him slightly in her arms as he tiny little fingers grasped at her chest.

"I can't stand him being like this," Robb looked on the verge of tears as she glanced towards where he was sat on the sofa next to his father. "I can't stand any of this…" he went on, shaking his head and Dany nodded her own head, afraid to speak, her own fears heightened by her crying baby and the terror in Robb's eyes. "We should have marched…" Lord Stark muttered to himself and her brows shot up, Lady Stark looking towards him in an incredulous manner. "The King said to stay…that Benjen had more than enough," she said.

"There would not have been enough weapons for you Lord Stark," Dany added and her good-father nodded heavily. "Perhaps they should have delayed marching…forged more, waited for more men," Robb was adding his own thoughts now and Dany wished he would stop. Having him fight wildlings had been bad enough. Having him march south with Aegon to take the Capitol while she was left alone with Edric growing inside her had been hell. Imagining him marching out beyond the Wall to face an army of the dead… Put simply it terrified her. Chilled her right down to the core of her bones just as sure as this darkness did.

Just thinking about the crushing blackness made her shudder and she clutched her son closer to her chest. "Lady Stark, could you pass me another blanket for him?" Dany asked as she turned to pace another length of the room. "Sit down a while with him near the fire," Lady Stark urged her, sliding a fur blanket from the back of one of the chairs; "I don't think pacing is doing you any good." Dany reluctantly agreed, nodding her head wearily before taking the blanket from her good-mother with thanks before wrapping it securely around her grizzling son and sitting herself next to Robb.

"Give him here a moment," Robb said gently and she obliged him. Her eyes were heavy and threatening tears, every moment that went by that he wouldn't settle just unnerving and upsetting her more and more, and she knew her own distress was likely only serving to heighten his. Robb seemed marginally calmer than her, and she wasn't sure if it was her imagination or whether Edric really did seem to be quietening slightly as Robb tucked him against his chest and rubbed soothingly up and down his back.

The sound of four wolves howling pierced the air in the moment of calm that settled around them and Dany was sure she wasn't the only one who had jumped. "What in the name of the Gods…" Lady Stark began but the door burst open in the next moment to reveal a shaking Bran. "Bran?" Lord Stark was on his feet in the next second and moving towards the door as all eyes turned to the new arrival. "I saw…" Bran seemed to be shuddering as he tried to force the words out; "the…the…everything…the world…on fire."

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

Aegon hadn't quite been able to believe his ears when the order had come for them to burn the forest. It seemed reckless. Beyond stupid. They would have no control over how far the fire spread and what it might leave destroyed in its wake. These were desperate times though. Without light they would be stabbing in the dark and those unnatural ice creatures seemed to have rather too much control over the blackness around them. Eventually Aegon had nodded his head and agreed to do as he and Jon had been bid before sharing an uneasy look with his brother and urging Rhaegal back up into the skies again.

It took mere seconds to come level with the trees below them and Aegon took a breath before circling closer to them, encouraging his dragon's flames to come into contact with the wood. Jon did the same several hundred feet away from him, the flames catching the pine and the wood, the smoke soon drifting up towards where they flew. More and more fire he urged down on the trees, knowing that they could never have enough light in this moment. In this very final fight. Aegon took a breath before ordering another inferno unleashed. After that he had to urge Rhaegal away, tugging on the reins and screaming over the raging fire for Jon to do the same.

The flames were rising high now and a few beats of wings had them both at a safe distance. Aegon looked back over his shoulder to see the battleground below them bathed in glorious orange light from the fire they had set. There were mere smoulders between the watchmen and the walkers now and he swallowed hard, his hand twitching about the reins of his dragon as he was tempted to encourage him to land. Part of him wanted to be in that fight, to show those men down there that they fought for a King who was worthy of it.

He thought of Sansa. He thought of his wife back at home who was no doubt worrying for him. Thought of his daughter who wasn't even old enough to remember his face. He resisted, instead encouraging Rhaegal to turn and keep them suspended above the coming fight, his eyes darting between the blazing trees and the men and dead in its glow. "Come on," he muttered under his breath, "come on…do it…finish them…"

* * *

_Casterly Rock_

* * *

Jeyne couldn't even hear the crashing waves of the sea as she stood out on the balcony with three layers of furs wrapped about her. Even in the eerily still night air she was shivering as though it were blowing a gale. There was not even a whisper of wind. There was just nothing. No moon. No stars. Nothing. She didn't know why she hadn't been able to sleep. Something just hadn't felt right and it still didn't. She gazed out over what she knew to be the Sunset Sea although she could see no sign of it through the crushing blackness. What time it was she didn't know but she knew that there could not be long left until dawn was supposed to break over the horizon. Somewhere deep inside she had a fear nestled, a fear that perhaps the sun would never rise up again.

"What are you doing?" Jaime's voice made her jump but she didn't turn around, merely leaning back into him as his hands came to settle on her shoulders. "Can you feel it?" she asked him quietly as he rested his chin down against the top of her head. "You mean the cold? Winter is coming Jeyne, surely you should know that, being from the North," his tone was teasing and light as ever it seemed to be. Nothing much affected Jaime but Jeyne felt as though she was being crushed by the sense of foreboding. "What if the sun never rises again?" she whispered.

"Of course the sun will rise again," he said confidently, "come back to bed and stop being so ridiculous. The sun will rise in the morning as it always has and always will."

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

He wasn't sure how it was possible to feel both excruciatingly hot and bone-chillingly cold at the same time but somehow Benjen was as he nimby side-stepped the swing of a huge war axe. His preventative action put him right in the path of a skeletal horse and somehow he managed to throw himself out of its way. This left him on the ground and almost choking on the snow, his grip thankfully still strong around the hilt of his sword. As quickly as his body would allow he rolled over onto his back in time to raise his sword up and block what would likely have been his death. The creature still have the upper hand over him though as it raised its weapon and prepared to bring it crashing down onto him.

Benjen was torn between trying to block the second blow and attempting to roll over again. Before he could make up his mind a black blade came through the creatures stomach and in the blink of an eye it was shattering into ice and nothingness. Would it melt into the snow and be lost forever? Would it melt into the snow and spring up others? Gods. He could not think on that now, he could only think to grasp hold of the hand that was outstretched to him. Gren hauled him back onto his feet and Benjen thanked him, managing a moment to clap him on the back before three more of them came to surround them.

They moved back to back automatically and Benjen trained his eyes on the glowing ice chips of the one closest to him, trying not to blink lest that be the moment the bastard struck. It went for him in the next moment and Benjen just about had time to parry the blow, knocking back into Gren slightly as he did so. He heard the shattering of ice again and he knew his brother had managed to finish off another. In his head he made a mental note to make the young man his second in command once this was over with, swinging his sword up as he made his decision and stabbing it right through where that creatures heart ought to have been.

It shattered into a million splinters just as the others had and Benjen finally had a moment to look around as Gren shattered the last one that had come for them. More of his own men than he had hoped were laying lifeless on the ground and he swallowed hard as his eyes sought out the raging inferno that the forest had become. By the Gods…

There were still some sets of ice blue eyes set amongst the fighting men and Benjen set his eyes on the largest group of them before moving as quickly as he could to aid the rest of his men. He knew he had joined a band of Ironborn as he drew closer, recognising their brash curses even though he could not make out the kraken on their armour in this light. Even with the trees ablaze these creatures were still trying to suck all of the light from around them. Benjen knew it was them, somehow he just knew that they were responsible. _The sun will rise again, _he promised himself as he thrust his sword into the back of one of them; _there will be a tomorrow._

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Still it was dark. It had been like this for hours. Nothing but all consuming darkness. And so still. So very still and cold. It was not a biting cold. It was dull cold, a kind of heavy iciness that seemed to seek deep down into the very core of her. Still she stood by the window, refusing to draw the drapes. She would not move from here until the sun came up, how could she? Somehow Sansa knew that this black night meant that the Others had come. Something in her just told her, something in the blood the pulsed through her veins and made her heart pound too quickly in her chest.

She was fearful for everything. For her husband, her family. For the men at the Wall and the future of Westeros. Of her child. Her hand came to flutter about her stomach as she took a deep measured breath. _Calm for the baby, _she reminded herself. Her child would be a winter child she knew that and she knew the horror stories of the cold, of the mothers who would smother their babes in cribs rather than risk them slowly starving to death. Sansa swallowed hard and strained her eyes even harder, desperate to see even just a glimmer of light.

From across the hallway she heard Alerie's cries start up again and they tugged at her heart. She had been in there countless times throughout the night but she would not be settled for more than a few moments. Even her nurses were at a loss of what to do with her. They were all worried about the blackness that had engulfed them as well but Sansa knew merely from looking into their eyes that they did not share the same all-consuming fear as she did. Alerie felt it too, Sansa knew she did, and that only served to make it ever harder to bear.

Another minute and she could stand no more, tearing her gaze from the window and marching to her door. Across the hallway she went and into the nursery. Alerie's nurses were apologising at once but she waved them away, somehow forcing a smile and easing the baby from the one who held her. "It's alright," she said firmly when they apologised again; "I wasn't asleep anyway." Sansa went for the window in the nursery, holding Alerie securely in one hand and pushing aside the drapes with the other. Blackness. Still.

She sighed and moved her eyes to the crying baby, shifting her up so she could tuck her head into the crook of her neck and rock her gently. Hushing her didn't seem to work, neither did soothing words nor songs. Alerie had never been a baby to cry like this, and that only served to heighten her belief that the little girl could feel what she did. Gods. Could it really be the end? Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and prayed more desperately than she had ever prayed before. Just let it end. Gods. Just let it end. She opened her eyes after several minutes, coaxed from her prayers as Alerie seemed to calm ever so slightly.

Sansa could have cried at the sight that greeted her. It was faint. Ever so faint. But it was there, right there on the horizon. The first flickers of dawn. Of a new day.

* * *

_Beyond the Wall_

* * *

Jon was scared to even breathe out a sigh of relief as Rhaenar landed on the frozen ground. His hands seemed almost frozen to the reins but somehow he forced them open and slipped down from his dragon, his legs feeling rather weak. His eyes went to the fire that was still raging on but only for a moment as his gaze was even more intent on finding the wisps of sunlight that were creeping up. They were undeniable now. At first he had thought that they were figments of his imagination, wishful thinking on his part as all he had wanted was for it to be over.

The cheering had come before the light. The Ironborn especially loud as they beat their fists repeatedly against the iron of their breastplates. Then had come the silence as the blackness had not lifted, the stillness still surrounding them entirely. It had seemed like hours but Jon wagered that it had been more like minutes before slowing things began to change. A minute hint of breeze in the air. A subtle hint of light of the edges of the world. Slowly they had crept higher and now Jon was certain that dawn was coming, that a new day was rising up as ever it should. Never had he been more appreciative of the sun. Of light.

He and Aegon met as they moved towards the victorious men who seemed just as stunned by the breaking day as they were. Without a word they embraced for a long moment before breaking apart and seeing Benjen heading their way, calling for the others to follow after him. Still the fire was raging and Jon wondered if it would ever stop or if it would burn right to the end of the world. "Is it over, really over?" Aegon asked rather shakily.

"We've destroyed all that came…we can only hope that that was it," Benjen said in a slightly disbelieving tone and Jon had the strangest desire to laugh. Gods. This was it. Really it? Was he really allowed to go home now and huddle up for the winter with his family? "We should get back on the right side of the Wall…the Others may be finished with but that fire in uncontrollable," Benjen advised and both Jon and Aegon agreed, falling into step with the men returning to Castle Black. Hundreds had been lost, perhaps thousands. But they had saved millions with their bravery and Jon would always have a place for them in his prayers.

The gateway clanked up as they approached and just as they were about to disappear under it Jon felt the thick, wet snow slick down the back of his neck. He grimaced, shuddering slightly before looking up only to be greeted with several more fat flakes in his face. "Might not need to worry about that fire after all," Benjen said as the flurries came down thick and fast; "winter has damn well arrived, we can only bloody hope that spring follows on quickly."

* * *

**A/N: **So there we have it...

I was rather bleary eyed whilst editing so I apologise for any mistakes but I really wanted to get this to you tonight.

I kind of came up with the idea that those with northern blood would feel the danger and the fear more intensely...I don't know why, just occurred to me and I thought it was a cool idea. Anyway, hope you all liked it. Hopefully I can get over my "fear" now and write the remaining chapters, really not long to go now guys. Looking at a round 80 I think (epilogue included).

Until next time...

:)


	77. Commitments

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, I think I have dontwanttoendthefic syndrome. Anyway. Three more after this (which I need to write), please, please be patient with me as my weekends for this month are crammed (and the weekends are when I do most of my writing). I will do my best but I don't have any kind of eta on the next chapter just yet.

**Marvelmyra: **Thank you so much for reading the whole thing straight through, hope you enjoy the last chapters!

**Boramir: **Yes indeed it is the end, I cannot cope with anymore from the walkers! For answers about Aegon see below, and thank you!

Right-ho folks, here we go...

:)

* * *

**Commitments**

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"I don't know about you, but I plan on leaving in the morning," Aegon said to Jon as they fell into step on the journey across the courtyard to the main doors of the keep. "Aye," Jon agreed, "as much as I have missed this place I want to be back with Margaery and Steffon." Aegon merely nodded his agreement, bringing a smile to his face as the door of the keep was eased open to reveal Lord Stark. "By the Gods," he said when he caught sight of them, "I thought the serving girls were mistaken but here you are…"

"Here we are," Jon agreed, stepping ahead of Aegon and embracing his uncle. Aegon merely inclined his head to his good-father and outstretched his hand which was clasped at once in the older man's grip. "Your Grace," Lord Stark greeted, "welcome back to Winterfell, how long do you plan on staying?"

"Just a night my Lord," Aegon smiled, hoping he didn't sound ungrateful, "I have been away from Sansa and the Capitol for long enough." Lord Stark returned his smile and fixed him with a rather searching look before he finally loosened his grip on his hand and let it go. "A night is enough for us to celebrate…in fact, Cat has had the naming ceremony planned for weeks now, perhaps now would be the perfect opportunity?"

"You shouldn't have to rush and make arrangements just for us," Jon said and Aegon whole-heartedly agreed with him to which Lord Stark waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense," he said, "come now, come on into the keep and out of the cold. I've asked for some wine to be warmed, best you get fed and watered before you tell me all about what happened at the Wall."

Ned could hardly believe his ears as Jon and Aegon recounted to him exactly what had happened with the Others. Halfway through their tale he had had to close his eyes and say a silent prayer to the Old Gods. He had been assured at once that Benjen was alright and that had been a heavy weight off his heart. Catelyn had arrived part way through the tale and Ned was glad that she had heard most of it from their mouths because he doubted very much that he would ever be able to do the story justice. When they finished he had no words for them, he just shook his head in disbelief and brought his wine back to his lips. Luckily Catelyn seemed to recover from the shock first.

"I've spoken to Dany and Robb, they are more than happy to have Edric named today, in truth they have been itching to do it but it did not seem right with all that was hanging over the kingdoms," she said with a bright smile that Ned imagined only he could tell did not quite meet her eyes. Catelyn never enjoyed hearing stories of war, even if the right side had emerged victorious. "Where are Robb and Dany?" Jon asked.

"Preparing the little one for the day…I'm not sure who is fussing most," she rolled her eyes but Ned could hear the deep set affection in her voice. "And the others?" Jon went on.

"Bran and Rickon are sparring with Ser Rodrik in the gallery, it is too cold now for them to be outdoors, and likely Arya is watching them…or participating, but I haven't seen her this morning," Catelyn replied, a slightly exasperated look on her face as she came to the end.

"I'll go and find them," Jon chuckled, "would you like to join me, or…?" he trailed off, raising his brows in Aegon's direction and the King nodded his head. "Of course," he agreed, "it will be nice to see the rest of the family again. I ought to see how well Bran's sword work is progressing, Sansa is forever reminding me that he is desperate to compete in a tourney."

Ned smiled at that, those few simple words that Aegon had uttered about his daughter had been laced with adoration. He turned to meet Catelyn's eyes as the two men let themselves out of the parlour and she smiled at him, a real smile that lit up her blue orbs. "I am so sorry I ever doubted your match for her," she told him and it was his turn to smile. "I understand well enough why you were worried for her, I had my own doubts, but they are well and truly laid to rest now," Ned said,reaching over to take her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing gently.

* * *

"Will you really be having a tourney?" Bran asked excitedly.

"When spring comes, yes, of course," Aegon promised him with a slight chuckle.

"Can I enter too?" Arya asked him, her eyes suspicious.

"That is not up to me," Aegon answered her and she scowled.

"If you said I could enter then they would have to let me, you're the King," Arya said.

"True enough…but I am also married to your sister," Aegon said with a slight grin.

"Fair point," Arya grinned back, "I suppose your life is hard enough as it is."

"You'd be surprised," Aegon chucked again, Sansa now clouding his thoughts.

"We heard you were here!" Dany's delighted greeting cut through then and Aegon turned away from his good-sister to grin at his aunt.

"You look well," he complimented her.

"As do you, thank the Gods," Dany replied as she reached him; "it's so good to see you again, it feels like forever."

"Not quite forever," Aegon said, leaning in to embrace her for a moment.

"Perhaps not," she agreed, holding him tightly for a moment before stepping back; "where is Jon?"

"Gone to send a letter to Margaery, where is Robb? And the little one," he added.

"Just coming now, Lady Stark waylaid them to make sure Edric is appropriately attired," Dany rolled her eyes but Aegon could see the adoration shining in them.

"I'm so pleased for you," he told her honestly.

"Thank you," she smiled widely, "and what about you?" she dropped her voice, her eyes flickering to make sure Bran and Arya were once again absorbed in their sparring.

"You mean Alerie?" Aegon asked just as quietly and she nodded.

"And Sansa," she added.

"I was so worried that she would resent me forever, but she has been determined from the start to make Alerie part of our family," he told her.

"I told you everything would work out for the best," she fixed him with a pointed look.

"You did," he agreed, "and you were right. I'm so happy with her, and I can only hope she is with me."

"She is," Dany told him knowingly and he raised a brow questioningly; "women talk you know."

"Hmm..." he rolled his eyes and she smiled widely again.

Before he could think of anything else to say his eye was caught by Robb and Jon walking into the room and he sent Robb a tentative smile and a nod. Although things between them had been getting better it had still been rather strained the last time they had seen one another. Robb smiled back easily at him though and Aegon imagined that his good mood had much to do with the bundle of furs wrapped up in his arms. Aegon knew that feeling all too well and he missed it. He missed it so much and it was almost painful to watch the affectionate glances between Robb and Dany as he shifted the baby into his mother's arms.

"Your Grace," Robb said, holding out his hand to Aegon.

"My Lord?" Aegon raised his brows slightly and Robb grinned as they clasped hands for a moment.

"I wasn't sure I should be so informal with you now that you are crowned," Robb said amusedly.

"We're kin," Aegon reminded him, "I expect informality."

"Good to know," Robb nodded, eyeing him for a moment; "how's Sansa?"

"Perfectly well, I swear she is better in council than I am, she certainly knows Westeros better that I do so her advice is invaluable," Aegon told him.

"Good," Robb nodded slowly, "and…everything else…?"

"Do you mean my daughter?" Aegon raised a brow and Robb nodded sheepishly; "She's wonderful, and Sansa is wonderful with her, something I will forever be grateful for."

"Good," Robb repeated, "I mean it…that's good, I didn't want to insinuate anything, I'm just concerned for my sister that's all."

"I completely understand, but I promise you, Sansa will always be safe and happy with me," Aegon promised and from the look in Robb's eye he could tell his good-brother believed him.

* * *

Robb draped his arm tightly around Dany as they made their way back towards the keep. The snow had begun to fall as Edric had been named before the Gods and by the time the ceremony was over it had started to come thick and fast. Dany had him bundled tightly against her chest so his face was shielded from the elements as they took slow, careful steps back towards the warmth of the keep. Even with the freezing flakes falling about them Robb could not take the smile from his face. When the sun had risen after the darkness he had felt some kind of heavy weight lifted from him, as though all his fears had suddenly floated away. He still worried over winter but he didn't feel the same dread as he had before. Hope that spring would swiftly bloom had begun to outweigh the threat of winter lasting forever. He could only pray his new hopes would come into fruition.

"Almost there," he said to Dany then and she beamed at him.

"Don't worry, he's not cold, he has Stark blood…I'm not sure any of you even feel the cold," she quipped.

"Not the way you or my mother do, no," he grinned back.

"We shall both be huddled up in front of the fire while you're teaching him to build snow wolves," she rolled her eyes.

"Hopefully winter will be over before he is old enough to learn how to build those," he said.

"We can only pray," she agreed.

Robb only smiled then, sliding his hand down to the small of her back and ushering her up the steps of the keep before him. Once in the entrance hall Dany waited until Adele joined her with Darion perched on her hip before the two of them made their way up to the nursery to settle the children with the nurses before joining the feast. Robb watched them out of sight and when he turned he saw that Theon had done the exact same thing. They could only grin when they caught one another's eye. "Shall we start without them?" Theon asked and Robb nodded, clapping his friend on the back as they made their way into the dining hall.

Jon hailed him almost at once and Theon made his excuses to leave after sharing an overly polite greeting with Jon. "Good to see not everything has changed," Robb grinned and Jon's own lips quirked up slightly. "I have no idea what you mean," he said in an innocent voice to which Robb couldn't help but snort. "You know you have a lot more in common now, Steffon and Darion are of an age…could be they might be friends one day," Robb teased him.

"And here I was about to congratulate you," Jon rolled his eyes and Robb's smile only widened. "I'm glad you were here today, especially since you weren't for the wedding," Robb said seriously and Jon's own face set in an almost regretful expression. "I am sorry about that," he said.

"There's no need," Robb said dismissively, instantly regretting mentioning it. "There is every need…what I did leaving like that," Jon shook his head; "I still regret it Robb, I wish I had never done it sometimes but then if I hadn't…" Robb saw his eyes slide towards Aegon who was stood in conversation with his father. "You never would have met your brother," Robb finished for him, nodding his understanding. "You're my brother Robb," Jon said, meeting his eyes.

"And I always will be, there is nothing in this world that will ever change that," Robb promised him.

* * *

Theon pulled Adele closer to him as they danced, leaning his head down against her shoulder and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair. He belonged here in her arms, and now that the war was finally over he felt as though he could finally relax in them. She pulled back slightly from him after a few minutes and he had to try very hard not to narrow his eyes at her. Adele only smiled at him, meeting his eyes and in that moment he knew that she knew how irritated he was that she had stepped back from him. She knew him inside out, his beautiful wife that he could never imagine being without. It felt like forever ago when he had only been interested in whoring. When no one woman could hold his attention for more than a week.

Adele had turned his world upside down and in his mind he could not equate himself to that man who had done nothing but try and get under women's skirts. The man who had had precious little responsibility and been glad of it. He had responsibilities now but instead of feeling weighed down by them he revelled in them, in the everyday normalcy and routine of his life. Their life. His and Adele's, and their baby boy's. He smiled slightly as he thought of his son, likely he would be walking in mere weeks. Such a strong little thing, Gods he wished Asha could have seen him…

"What are you thinking?" Adele asked him softly.

"Just about Darion," he told her and she sent him a smile which he endeavoured to return.

"And?" she asked him knowingly.

"How do you do that?" he asked her in return.

"Do what?" she frowned slightly.

"Read my mind," he said and the smile came tugging back at her lips.

"Because I know you Theon Greyjoy…tell me," she urged him.

"I just wish Asha could have met him," he confessed and she sighed sympathetically.

"I wish there was some way to make it easier…but you can tell him all about her when he's old enough," she tried to sound bright.

"What little I remember," he said bitterly.

"You can tell him how brave she was. How without her you would never have made it home to meet him yourself," she told him firmly.

"I know," he nodded distractedly.

"What she did is something worth celebrating…she was so brave Theon," she whispered.

"She was," he agreed.

"And when we have a daughter, she will have a name to be proud of," she nodded.

"We're having a daughter now?" he raised his brows.

"Perhaps," she said, biting down on her lip, a gleaming light shining in her eyes that he had only seen once before.

"How long?" he asked softly.

"A week maybe…I've yet to see the Maester," she said.

"But you suspect…" he trailed off, raising his brows.

"It is slightly more than a suspicion, I am almost certain," she smiled at him and he laughed out in wonderment before pulling her closer to him again.

"I love you," he whispered against her hair before pressing a firm kiss to the side of her head; "Gods I love you."

* * *

"Do you want to dance?" Gendry asked her and she shook her head. "I'm too fat," Serra said by way of explanation and he rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be so ridiculous, come on Serra, it might be the last chance we get to be carefree before the baby comes," he persuaded and she sighed heavily.

"Would you not prefer to dance with someone else?" Serra asked him, "Arya is sat over there on her own, why don't you ask her?" Gendry couldn't help but snort at that question, Arya would likely make it so he would never have a hope of fathering more children if he dared ask her to dance. "Seriously Serra? Arya? I don't want to dance with anyone else, I want to dance with my wife," he persisted and he saw the corners of her mouth twitch up.

"Even though I'm huge?" she asked him and he rolled his eyes again, coming to rest his hand on her swollen stomach. "You are beautiful," he stated, meeting her eyes and he delighted in the faint blush that rose up on her cheeks. "I still cannot believe you can look at me like that," she said.

"Like what?" he frowned slightly as her hand came to rest atop his. "Like you still want me, like I am the only woman in the world you have eyes for even though I'm so different," she explained to him and he scooted closer and pressed his lips firmly against hers. "I love you," he told her when he pulled back, "you are different because you are carrying our baby, that could never make me desire you less…in fact, it only makes me want you more."

"I love you too," she smiled and he could see her eyes shining with tears; "and I know I don't tell you that enough, but I do Gendry. You have helped me through so much…without my mother I…I don't want to think about it now. Why don't we have that dance…and then maybe we could go home?" she looked almost shy by the end and he couldn't help but grin.

"I want nothing more," he said and she nodded her head, clearly fighting back her emotions as he stood up and held his hand out for her to take. He pulled her gently into his arms when she stood up and she happily lay her head down against his heart as they slowly rotated to the music. "I know you think you have to be strong for Joren and your father, but you don't need to pretend with me," Gendry whispered against the top of her head; "I know how much you miss your mother and if you ever need to just cry then all you need to do is wrap your arms around me and I will hold you until you're ready for me to let go."

"Thank you," she whispered rather thickly after a long minute of silence; "thank the Gods for you Gendry…I don't know what I would ever do without you."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

Erinne smiled widely as Willas took her hand in his, lacing her fingers with his own as the ribbon was wound about them. There was no one but them in the ancient Sept beneath the great Sept of Baelor. No one but them and the old Septon in the simple, stone chamber. Many years ago she had imagined marrying Willas in the splendour of Highgarden and wearing a beautiful dress and weaving flowers from the gardens into her hair. The sun would be shining down on them and their families would be gathered to witness their union. After his accident that dream had been crushed into a million pieces by her father. She instead shared a grand wedding with another man whilst the one she loved looked on and tried to appear unaffected.

She blinked as the Septon called their attention to speak the binding vows. Last time she had spoken these words she hadn't meant any of them as thousands of people looked on and murmured behind their hands. Last time she had become a Queen. This time she was more than content just to be a wife. Saying them this time was easy, holding Willas' eyes as they both spoke in perfect unison with one another. He looked as overwhelmed as she did and seeing that in his expression left her in no doubt that this had been the right thing to do. They had considered asking Loras, and perhaps the Queen as she had become such a good friend to Erinne in such a short space of time.

In the end they had decided against it. If they invited Loras then they would have to invite Margaery and Garlan and then they would have to wait for them and their families to arrive. If they had invited the Queen then she may have wanted to wait until the King returned and he might have insisted they have a grand occasion thrown for them. It would have been rude to decline all that so instead they decided not to risk it. Just them. That was all they needed in this world, just one another. She smiled widely at him then; her _husband, _and he returned the gesture before he leaned in to her and captured her lips.

They kissed softly for a long minute and when they pulled back the Septon smiled and nodded to them before he proceeded to leave them alone. Erinne could scarce believe it were real, that they were one. No one could tear them away from one another now. Not ever. "I can't believe it," she voiced her incredulity and Willas only smiled more widely at her. "No regrets?" he asked her and she thought for a long moment before she shook her head. "Not about us," she promised him, "never about us."

"I love you Erinne," he said, his eyes boring so deeply into her own that it felt as though he were staring into her very soul. "I love you," she held his eyes and they smiled at one another for a moment before his eyes slid down to their entwined hands to remove the ribbon. Erinne took it from him when it was unwound and slipped it down into the pocket that was sewn into her dress. It was just a small token of their union but she wanted it to treasure for the rest of her days. "Shall we?" she asked him then, arching her brow and he smiled for a moment before looking at her seriously.

"I'm not expecting you to do anything you don't want to tonight," he said to her and she frowned up at him. "Are you saying you don't want to?" she questioned him and he was shaking his head at once. "Of course I want to, I am desperate for you…to be with you again but…if it's too soon, if you're not ready then I understand that," Willas told her and she felt immense relief.

"Some days I miss our baby so much," she confessed and he looked pained, "and sometimes I can't help but think about Stannis. But I'm your wife now, how it was always supposed to be. I'm ready, I'm not scared because I know I have you with me. I am your wife Willas, and I am ready to be the mother of your children, I promise you. Nothing can ever hurt us like that again so long as we have one another."

"I'm not sure I will ever be able to explain how much you mean to me Erinne but I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my days trying to find them," he said and she smiled, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. "You don't need to prove anything to me…you have already proven yourself a thousand times over. You turned your back on your father and your home for me…you forgave me for Stannis," she dropped her eyes from his as she remembered the look on his face when she had told him about her last night with her former husband.

"I know you will always have some lingering feelings for him," he said quietly, "I can't pretend that I understand them, or that I would prefer that you didn't but…knowing you love me is enough…knowing you love me has always been enough, and it always will be."

* * *

**A/N: **I know it was about 99% fluff, but it is getting towards the end :P

More as soon as I can get it written.

:)


	78. Devotion

**A/N: **I am baaaaack, here is the new chapter, hope I've not kept you waiting too long!

**PLEASE READ:** I wonder if you remember a while ago that I was nominated for some awards, well, I have got through to the final round of voting with 'Paying the Toll' and 'My Kingdom Come' in the 'All-Time Favorite Games of Thrones Fanfic' category which is just awesome. If I could possibly trouble those of you who have read and enjoyed one or both of those fics to head on over and vote again that would be amazing and I would be so grateful. Thank you so much, and here is the site you need to vote should you want to: fanaticfanficsawards . blogspot . co . uk

**SLP: **Thanks for that, I shall check it over and amend!

**Guest (chapter 29): **I know it canon that the Targaryens are not fireproof but for the purposes of this fic it really helps that they are. Considering it is AU I like to think I can be forgiven for making it this way. I'm glad you like the story anyway and hope you continue to do so!

Right-ho, onwards folks!

:)

* * *

** Devotion**

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

The sun was setting when Rhaegal landed with a thud in the main courtyard and Aegon breathed a long sigh of relief before sliding down from his back and patting him gratefully on the side of his neck. Rhaegal let out a series of happy chirps before he prepared to spring back up into the sky again. Aegon stepped back and at his movement the dragon launched himself up into the air, streaking around the Red Keep a few times as though to show the city he was back before he swooped over towards the Blackwater where Aegon imagined he would be joining the new fishing fleets. Hopefully they wouldn't be too unnerved by him.

Thoughts of his dragon scaring fishermen were chased away from his mind as he looked back up at the keep, walking at once towards the wing that he and Sansa were housed in. Doubtless she would still be awake, although he imagined she would have retired to their rooms by now. His eyes scanned the upper windows as he walked and he could indeed see the soft glow of lantern light beaming down from those that belonged to their chambers. Two Kingsguard met him at the entrance, bowing low to him. He inclined his head in return and smiled for them as he walked between them. The clank of their armoured footsteps echoed in time just a few paces behind him as he walked across the entrance hall and towards the stairs.

Along the hallways they went, Aegon's eyes caught a few times by more changes that Sansa had made to the décor. He made a mental note to add his compliments on it to the ever growing list of things in his mind that he had to say to her. Never could he be that long without her again, two months was too much time, and too much time to be away from his daughter. Doubtless Alerie had doubled in size since he last saw her. He tried to bury his guilt over all that he had missed as he rounded the corner of the hallway that led to his and Sansa's chambers. Loras and Olyvar were stood either side of the door and he knew at once that his wife would be inside. The thought lifted his heart and he smiled for the two guarding her as they bowed shortly to him.

Aegon let himself in slowly, closing the door on the guards firmly, his eyes seeking out his wife. Her head turned to him as he found her, sat in the window seat with a robe wrapped loosely around her, her hair all undone and glowing in the firelight. He took a moment to admire her before his eyes slid to the bundle in her arms. Gods, she had grown, just as he had suspected. "You're back," Sansa's soft voice pulled his attention back to her and he managed to get his legs to work and step towards her. "I'm back," he nodded, a wide smile coming to his face, "and I swear I will never leave for so long again."

"You had to go, I understand that. Don't worry…we have been fine without you, although…we have missed you very much," Sansa said gently and he leant his hand against the wall and bent down to kiss her lips for a long moment. "Gods, she's grown," he breathed when he pulled away and moved his eyes back to Alerie. "She has, her nurses have said how well she has been feeding. They think it will not be long before she can start having a little taste of proper food," she reported to him; "here, you ought to take her a moment, it's almost time for her to go back to the nursery but I don't suppose it will matter if you hold onto her for a little while longer."

"I will take her back in a while," Aegon said with a smile, gently shifting his daughter from Sansa's arms and rocking her slightly as she let out a rather disgruntled noise. She looked like Val when she frowned, Aegon noticed, and he swallowed rather hard as he thought of her. He had been tempted to stop at the Gift on the way back from the Wall but had decided against it in the end. Part of him still hadn't forgiven her for leaving their daughter and seeing her again would doubtless have brought that bitterness to the surface. He was much happier now just to focus on Sansa and Alerie, his two most precious things in this world.

Alerie blinked sleepily up at him, the corners of her lips twitching up into something that he could almost call a smile and his own widened on seeing it. "I think she just smiled at me," he said to Sansa, sliding his eyes to her and seeing her beaming back at him. "Doubtless she is happy you are back, just as I am," she said and he nodded slightly, his eyes going back to Alerie and seeing that her own had fluttered closed. "I will take her back to the nursery," he said, "then perhaps you and I can have some time to ourselves."

"I'd like that," Sansa said, "there is much for us to catch up on." Aegon nodded his agreement and moved at once to the door. He barely saw the guards bowing to him as he was so wrapped up in the sleeping baby in his arms. The nursery was only across the hall now, Sansa had seen to it that it was moved there and the decorating had been completed just before he had gone to find the Mountain. He refused to dwell on that monster, instead letting himself in and smiling and thanking the nurses who were curtseying and telling him how good it was to see him again. Her head nurse came to him after a moment and he carefully shifted Alerie over to her, her little fists clenching slightly in her blankets as she was jostled a little.

"I will come in the morning," Aegon said softly and the nurse nodded her agreement. He bid them all goodnight in the next moment and moved back to the door, wanting nothing more than to lock himself away with Sansa for the duration of the evening. She got up from where she had been sitting when he re-entered their chambers and he smiled widely at her, noticing as they moved closer to one another that she had an almost apprehensive look in her eye. "What is it?" he asked her gently and she bit down slightly on her bottom lip.

"You missed rather a lot when you were gone," she began and he moved his hand to gently cup her cheek, thumbing the softness of it gently. "I wrote what I could to you in letters but there was something I just couldn't bear to write down," she continued and he frowned slightly.

"Has something happened? Is something wrong?" he asked her in a slightly panicked voice and she was shaking her head at once. "No…I just knew I wanted to see your face, look into your eyes," she said quietly, one of her hands coming to find his. He allowed her to pull his hand to her, her other hand loosening the tie of her robe even more. Before he could say anything she had guided his hand inside her robe and settled it down on her stomach. Through the clinging silk of her nightdress he could easily feel the change in her and his eyes widened at once before moving to find her own. "I'm with child," she whispered and a burst of delighted laughter came from him at once.

He pulled her against him and kissed her with everything he had as her own arms slipped up and around his neck as she pressed her body into his. Gods he had missed her. Missed her so much, and now on his return she had given him the best news he had likely ever heard. Eventually she pulled away from his kiss, burying her head in his chest as he squeezed her even more tightly, his lips pressing against her hair repeatedly. "I love you," he finally murmured against the top of her head and she pulled back from him slightly. Her eyes were almost disbelieving but he meant the words. Gods he meant them. How could he not?

He kept his eyes on hers and nodded his head slightly, as though to confirm what he had said to her was true. Still she looked stunned for a moment longer but he saw the change in her eyes. He could see the acceptance. The belief. A smile twitched up around her lips a moment later and it was his turn to feel disbelief when she opened her mouth; "I love you too."

"Gods Sansa…a few years ago none of this seemed possible. I had next to nothing, just one loyal man and a birth right," he shook his head in a slightly dazed manner and she reached her hand up to cup around his cheek. "It wasn't so long ago that being in this place was hell for me, when I spent every day praying to the Gods that they would get me out of here," she said, "I never dreamed that I would ever w_ant _to be here ever again, that I would be happy here and come to know it as my home."

"You have made this our home, you have done so much for me Sansa. When I agreed to the match between us I was only thinking of the Queen you would be for the people, I never considered what you would be for me," he told her, "but I _love _you Sansa…you are everything and more to me, and I never want you to doubt that."

"I won't," she said softly, nodding her head as tears began to well in her eyes. Before any of them could spring from her he pulled her back against him, guiding her back to the sofa and pulling her down onto it with him. She settled in his lap and wrapped herself around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck as his hand came to settle on her lightly rounded stomach. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead as her own hand came to lay atop his. "You are going to be the most incredible mother," he whispered, "thank you Sansa, thank you for everything."

* * *

_Storm's End_

* * *

It was nightfall when Jon arrived back, Rhaenar had landed just outside the gates before promptly taking off again and soaring out over the Blackwater. He had left Aegon the night before, travelled on without him and spent a few hours resting in Bronzegate before taking off again so he could arrive home before Margaery retired for the night. Jon ambled through the gates, nodding to the guards who bowed to him and exchanged their greetings. He couldn't help the smile on his face as he walked up the steps towards the doors. They were opened for him as he approached and he thanked the guards who promptly closed them again behind him.

The warmth hit him first and he couldn't help but sigh out in satisfaction as he looked around the entrance hall that was still so strange to him and yet oddly starting to feel like home. He imagined it was the woman walking down the stairs towards him that had made it begin to feel that way for him. Margaery looked as stunning as ever she did, he descending steps quickening as she caught sight of him in the hall. Jon in his turn took the steps two at a time up to meet her halfway down the stairs, her arms flinging about his neck at once.

"I got your letter," she murmured against the skin of his neck as he repeatedly kissed the top of her head and her temple. "But Gods…it is nothing compared to seeing you safe and well with my own eyes."

"I promised you I would come home, you didn't think I would let you down did you?" he asked her and her response was to pull away from him and press her lips firmly against his. Jon lost himself in her kiss and in her touch that he had missed for so long. The nights had been cold, but they had been even colder without her wrapped around him. "I love you," he murmured against her kiss and she mumbled it back to him as they continued as best they could.

"Steffon?" he inquired when he finally found the will to pull away from her sweet lips. "Perfectly well, he took a few shaky steps yesterday but they weren't proper ones…you haven't missed those," she reported to him with a wide smile on her face.

"Thank the Gods," he smiled, "where is he?"

"Sleeping," she answered, "I tried to keep him up but you know how grumpy he can be…"

"It's no matter, I will see him in the morning," he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Indeed you will husband," her lips curved up on one side, "but for tonight I want you all to myself."

"Is that right wife?" he almost growled at her.

"Indeed it is, if you want this castle filled with babies then we ought to continue on upstairs," she said.

"Do you wager we will make it that far?" he raised a brow and she giggled.

"Why don't we find out?" she returned with a raised brow of her own.

Jon nipped her waist at that and she giggled again before manoeuvring her way out of his arms and quickly heading up the stairs. He followed her down the landing, admiring the way her hips swayed and the seductive way she would keep turning her head over one shoulder and biting her lip. It truly amazed him that he managed to keep his hands off her until she reached their chamber door. Once inside he kicked it closed and dragged her back into his arms, his lips seeking out the plump warmth of hers again.

When she slipped her tongue into his mouth he couldn't help but groan out his appreciation, her hands seemingly clenching more tightly around his upper arms at the action. Blindly he managed to find the ties of her dress, loosening them with his fingers before allowing his hands to wander up to her shoulders and slip the material down her arms. Margaery shrugged out of her dress and fur stole with frightening ease before her hands came to his own fastenings, dragging his doublet away from him before insistently pulling up his shirt.

He helped her with it, tossing it across the room before his hands came to her silk covered hips. She shuddered at his touch and he allowed his lips to press to her shoulders where goose flesh was forming. There might be a fire roaring in the grate in their room but there was still a chill in the air that Jon could feel brushing his own skin. "Bed," he ordered her, moving his hands from her waist as she stepped back. Her dark eyes were gleaming as she stepped back towards the mountain of furs that were lain atop their bed. Jon could barely tear his own gaze from her as she removed her shift tantalizingly slowly before slipping in between the sheets and furs.

He eased his boots from his feet and kicked them away, his hands going for his laces as he kept his eyes fixed on Margaery's dark pools. As he approached the bed he shoved his breeches down his hips and crawled in next to her as she lifted up the sheets for him to slip inside. His hands found her body in an instant and his lips sought out her collarbone, nipping at the firm flesh, the motion causing her back to arch up into him. She gasped as he kissed down the valley of her breasts, allowing his tongue to caress her as he moved further and further down her body. He had discovered early on in their marriage that Margaery would do almost anything to have his head between her legs. What he hadn't told her was that he enjoyed it almost as much as she did.

Her back arched up even further into him as he allowed his tongue to dip into her delicious warmth. Her hands, as ever, came to grip his hair as his own pressed her hips firmly down into the mattress. If he didn't hold her down he was risking injury as she seemed to lose all control of her body when he did this to her. Not that he minded. It was quite the opposite. He revelled in making her come in all manner of ways but this was one of his favourites. Just the taste of her was enough to make his head spin and hearing her moans of utmost pleasure were their own special kind of reward.

He allowed himself to delve deeper, his fingertips digging into the firm flesh of her hips as she thrashed against him, her moans even louder now. Just a little more attention on her most sensitive spot had he trembling beneath him, her arched back falling back into the mattress as she panted out her release. After a moment of savouring her he began kissing his way back up her body, her legs coming to wrap vice-like around his waist as he reached her neck. Her breathing was ragged in his ear as she raked her nails down his back, lifting her hips against his so his hardness rubbed up against her arousal. Jon couldn't help but groan on feeling her like that against him, and he could stand teasing her no longer, shifting his own hips so he could sink down into her perfection.

Perfect. She always was perfect and this was no exception. Her hips rose up to meet his thrusts, pressing their flesh as tightly together as they could before drawing away. His hands came to tangle in her soft curls as her own travelled back up his back before raking through his hair, pulling his lips away from her neck so she could claim them with her own. He kissed her as best he could although his breath was steadily being taken from him by the rising pleasure that was engulfing his body. Margaery seemed to be losing her own breath as all too soon she pulled away from his lips to take a gasping gulp of air that was accompanied by an agonised cry of pleasure.

Jon's grip on her hair tightened as he felt her beginning to reach her end, her breathing ragged and her scrabbling hands at him breathlessly begging him for release. He encouraged her thighs up higher on his waist and in the next moment her head tilted back, his name never sounding more beautiful than it did when she uttered it at the peak of her pleasure. He managed one more thrust before collapsing down against her neck and breathing hard against her as she panted out in his ear, her hands stroking gently through his hair as his own grip on hers loosened.

When he felt he had the strength he lifted his head and smiled for her, seeing her eyes glazed over as he own lips twitched up into a faint returning smile. "Warm enough?" he whispered against her lips before he captured them for a long moment. "Definitely," she said when he pulled away, "Gods I have missed being in your arms."

"I have missed being in yours, I cannot imagine ever feeling so content anywhere," he responded to her and her smile widened, her hands slipping down from his hair and coming to cup his cheeks. "I love you so much," she told him, her eyes firmly on his and he didn't move his gaze away from hers as he returned the sentiments. "Do you think we will survive winter then?" he raised his brows.

"I know we will," she smiled confidently, "I know we can survive anything as long as we have each other."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

Ned felt her presence before her touch found the small of his back. He turned his head and offered a smile, his eyes scanning her entirety to make sure she was well wrapped up against the cold. She seemed to be, furs wrapped around her and thick gloves encasing her hands. "Should I even ask you what you are doing out here?" Catelyn asked him as he turned his attention back to looking out over the battlements. "More fires being lit in Winter Town," he told her and she stepped forward so she was stood at his side, his arm coming up automatically and wrapping around her shoulders.

"That's a good thing surely?" she asked him and he nodded his head, smiling slightly as he looked out over the town. He tightened his grip around Catelyn's shoulders as she shuddered slightly against him. "You ought not to have come out, you will freeze," he told her.

"I woke up to find you gone, there was no way I could sleep until I knew where you were," she said.

"Well now you've found me, we can go back inside," he said.

"Why did you come out in the first place?" she asked him as they turned away from the view of the town and back towards the steps.

"I couldn't sleep…thinking of everything that has happened," he shook his head.

"Sometimes I cannot believe it was all real, that we really escaped unscathed," she said.

"I know, we were lucky, and I thank the Gods for it every day," he smiled slightly.

"All our family safe and sound, we are luckier than most," she agreed with him.

"Now we just have to survive winter," he said.

"Starks have always survived winter haven't they?" she asked in a teasing tone and he chuckled.

"It's the ice in our veins," he joked.

"Nothing to do with no sense, no feeling?" she raised her brows and he laughed even harder.

"The cheek of it," he said, nudging her in the ribs as they returned to the keep.

"We'll be alright Ned," she said certainly as they climbed the steps.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked curiously.

"I just am," she smiled up at him, "I just know so long as we have you no harm can ever come to us."

* * *

**A/N: **Given recent show related events I thought some happy/smutty Jon-ness might be appreciated.

I will have more up as soon as I can but my time this month is limited as I may have previously mentioned. I'll do my best for you guys!

:)


	79. Looking Forward

**A/N: **This is the last proper chapter dear readers (oh my God, cannot quite believe it), there will be an epilogue and I know sort of how I want to write it but I haven't started it yet so it might be a while. Hopefully I can sort something out by next week but we shall see.

Anyway, hope this one will tide you over. It's been an adventure and I can't believe it's almost over.

Thanks for keeping me company, hope you enjoy...

:)

* * *

** Looking Forward**

* * *

_Six months later…_

* * *

_The Gift_

* * *

Val walked slowly through the snow, which was now over a foot deep. Her progress would have been quicker if her stubborn nephew would actually allow her to pick him up and carry him back to their home. He was nearing two name days now and showed all the best and worst traits of his parents already. Val couldn't help but smile slightly as she looked back at him again as he practically waded through the snow with a determined look on his face. Dalla would have been proud of him, she knew that well enough. The time would soon come to choose a name for him but nothing had come to Val's mind yet and she could not remember anything that her sister had been considering.

Thoughts of his name had her thinking about her own daughter, her heart panging as ever it did. The ache had lessened now but it was still there in the very core of her and she imagined that it always would be. She wondered whether Aegon would have given her a name, she was being brought up in the south so she imagined that he would have done. She wondered if it was pretty. If the Queen had had any say in it. She swallowed hard and reminded herself for the thousandth time that it had been her own choice. There was nothing to be gained in envying a woman for the position that she could have occupied herself had she not been so selfish. Could she not have stomached the Capitol for the sake of her daughter?

That question came to her every day and still she had no answer to it. No, she imagined was the only thing she could say. Obviously the answer was no otherwise she would not be here now, walking at a snail's pace through the snow because she could not persuade a boy with less than two name days to be carried. A lantern bobbed out in the mist and she took a sigh of relief as she imagined it was the light of one of the guards on the edge of the settlement they had built up. That meant they were almost home and she was glad because as stubborn as he was, she imagined her nephew would soon start to feel the cold.

"Are you alright there?" the guard asked as she drew closer.

"Fine," she said slightly tersely, "I wouldn't mind a quicker pace though."

"He's at a stubborn age," the man smiled fondly.

"Do you have children of your own?" she asked and his smiled faded slightly.

"Not anymore," he said and she bit down on her lip, wishing she had never asked.

"I'm sorry," she said meaningfully and he nodded his head.

"How old is he?" he asked after a moment.

"Almost at two name days," she answered him.

"No name yet then," he smiled more warmly and she couldn't help but return it.

"Not yet, and I can think of none…his mother would want something strong for him," she told him.

"You are not his mother?" he raised his brows.

"You seem surprised," she raised her own.

"You have the look of a mother about you," he explained and she smiled wryly.

"I am a mother," she said after a long moment, wondering why exactly she was telling this strange man.

"What happened?" he asked her gently and she took a deep breath.

"I left her to have a better life with her father, she deserves more than I could ever give her," she said.

"Takes a strength to make a decision like that," he said gravely.

"I sometimes wonder if I made the right one," she confessed.

"You did what you thought was best for your daughter, no matter how much it hurt you," he stated.

"Yes," she agreed, nodding vigorously before looking back to her nephew who had almost caught up too her.

"Here little one," the guard said, crouching down in the snow, "how would you like a lift back?"

"He's stubborn," Val advised him as her nephew contemplated the man.

"Come now, you will be quicker with a lift, back in the warm," he beckoned towards him.

To Val's surprise he took the few stuttering steps forward and allowed the guard to scoop him up and place him on his hip. The man grinned at the stunned look on her face and she shook her own head and tried to return her expression to normal. "You ought to lead the way," he raised a brow then and she nodded her agreement. "You never told me your name," Val said as they strode back towards the little hut that had become her home. "Torrhen," he told her, "and you? You never told me yours."

"Val," she said, turning her head to smile at him and seeing that he was already looking at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you Val," he said with a smile of his own. "Thank you for bringing him back…I don't suppose I could repay you with some spiced wine?" she asked him almost shyly as they reached the door to the hut. Torrhen looked vaguely surprised but his eyes lit up at her suggestion and Val somehow managed to take a deep breath as he prepared to answer. "It would be my pleasure," he said after a moment, "thank you Val."

* * *

_King's Landing_

* * *

"Utter perfection," Aegon murmured as he slid onto the bed next to Sansa and slipped his arm around her shoulders, his eyes fixed on the bundle in her arms. She couldn't help the wide smile that adorned her face as she saw the wonder in his eyes as he gazed down at their new born son. "Thank you," he whispered to her when he finally tore his eyes away and she could only nod before he leant in to press his lips against hers. Sansa exhaled happily when he pulled away, the tolling of the bells reaching her ears as they rang out to announce the arrival of the royal heir.

It had been agony. Hour after hour of utter agony that just seemed to grow worse and worse the longer it went on. By the end Sansa had thought that she might actually die but the relief had come. The inexplicable joy of hearing her baby's insistent cries as he came into the world. She had barely had a moment to register everything and compose herself before Aegon had come bursting in, unable to stand waiting out in the hallway any longer. Presenting their little prince to him had a huge wave of satisfaction crashing through her body that she imagined would not wash away for quite some time. "You are incredible…both of you…so incredible…" Aegon breathed out, his eyes darting between them.

"He is a little wonder, I cannot disagree with you there," Sansa smiled at him and he grinned back before eyeing their son again, his hand coming to gently stroke across his head. He was the very image of Aegon, every inch his son as he lay contentedly in her arms with his little fists clenching and unclenching every few moments. "You ought to hold him," Sansa said after a moment and Aegon nodded his agreement before he slid his arm back from around her shoulders and moved to shift their baby into his arms. Sansa handed him over and immediately missed the perfect weight of him in her arms. She knew there was an army of nurses ready on hand to see to his every need but now he was here she wanted nothing more than to have him with her more often than not.

"What are you frowning about?" Aegon pulled her from her thoughts and she snapped her eyes to his and brought a smile to her face. "I didn't realise I was," she said honestly, stretching out her hand to allow her son to clench his little fist around one of her fingers. "What were you thinking about?" he persisted and she sighed, she should have known he would not let it lie.

"Just that I would prefer it if he were with me rather than his nurses," she told him, "I'm sure I will have need of them, especially when I join you in court or council but the rest of the time I would much rather he be with me."

To her surprise her husband merely smiled before leaning in to kiss her again, the smile still on his face when he pulled back. "Oberyn told me my mother was the same," he said after a long moment, "and doubtless your mother was too. Have him with his nurses as little or as often as you want, I will not dictate how much time you spend with our son."

"Thank you," she smiled at him and he rolled his eyes at her before moving his attention back to the baby in his arms. "You don't need to thank me, it is you who has given me everything and more…I will never be able to thank you enough," he told her and she smiled slightly, brushing her thumb gently against the back of her son's hand. "I love you Aegon," she said after a moment.

"And I love you Sansa," he returned, moving his eyes back to hers, "don't ever question it."

* * *

_Winterfell_

* * *

"Here you are Serra, sorry it took so long," Dany apologised as she moved further into the Cassel house at Jory's invitation, fishing out a bottle from inside her fur-lined cloak as she did so. Jory closed the door at once as to not let the heat of the fire escape out into the cold as Dany held the bottle out to a grateful looking Serra. "Thank you so much Dany, I'm not sure how much more I can take," Serra said as her baby grizzled lightly in her arms. "This is her in one of her better moods," she went on and Dany smiled sympathetically.

"I had the same trouble with Edric but the ointment works a dream," Dany assured her.

"Thank the Gods," Serra said.

"Why don't you sit down Dany? I can make some tea," Jory offered.

"Thank you, that would be lovely," Dany smiled before she unclasped her cloak and allowed it to drape over the back of the chair that he had indicated her to sit down in. She sat when it was removed and smiled at the sight of Serra gently rubbing some of the ointment into Loral's gums. The baby's bleats became softer after a few moments and Dany saw Serra visibly breathe a sigh of relief. "Where's Gendry and Joren?" Dany asked when Serra finished what she was doing.

"Gathering more firewood for the stores with Theon," Serra told her.

"We are going through so much more at the keep now," Dany said, nodding slightly.

"Did you hear the whispers that it is looking like spring in Dorne?" Serra asked.

"By the coast," Dany nodded her head, "but Lord Stark wagers it could be another year at least before any signs are spotted this far north."

"Well that is better than the decades the doom-mongers were making out," Jory commented as he returned with steaming cups for them both.

"Thank you father," Serra said gratefully.

"Give her here a moment, I will settle her upstairs and you can have a moment with Dany," Jory said.

Serra shifted forwards at once, hushing Loral slightly as she let out an irritated sigh, Jory immediately beaming down on the baby when she was placed in his arms. He rocked her gently and shared a smile with Serra before he made his way out the door and down the hallway. Dany could distinctly hear him cooing to his granddaughter as he made his way up the stairs. Men were putty when it came to babies, Dany herself had caught Lord Stark telling old northern tales to a gurgling Edric the previous week. Robb was with him now and she imagined her husband would be doing much the same thing.

"How is he?" Dany asked quietly when she was sure Jory wouldn't be able to hear them.

"He has his bad days, but they are fewer," Serra nodded encouragingly.

"And you?" Dany pressed.

"I have my moments, but Loral keeps my mind away from it. I just wish my mother could have met her," Serra replied.

"She's something positive for you all to focus on, and I know your mother would be proud of you," Dany told her certainly.

"Thank you Dany," Serra smiled before she leaned forwards to pick up her cup of tea.

"Robb says your father has been helping with the arms training a lot more recently," Dany said lightly.

"Yes," Serra said, a knowing look in her eye, "he spars a lot with Brienne."

"Yes," Dany agreed, deciding against saying any more, instead leaning forward to get her own tea.

"She's come here a few times," Serra offered after she took a sip, "they share a drink…talk…"

"Do you think…?" Dany raised her brow.

"Not yet," Serra shook her head, "he's not ready yet."

"But one day?" Dany persisted.

"Perhaps," Serra nodded.

"And how would you feel about that?" Dany asked her.

"I want him to be happy," Serra said, meeting her eyes, "and mother would want the same."

Dany nodded but before she could say anymore the front door was banging open and Serra was on her feet at once. She darted forward to quickly slam it shut behind Gendry and Joren who had both arrived back with their arms fit to burst with firewood. Dany moved herself away from the fire so they could both approach the hearth and deposit the logs. Gendry stood up when he had deposited his load, pulling off his gloves and wiping the back of his hand across his brow before he turned his attention to Serra.

"Where's Loral?" he asked her after he moved close enough to bend his head and peck her lips.

"My father's taken her up to settle her, Dany brought some of that ointment," Serra reported to him.

"Thank you," Gendry directed his words towards Dany, "how much coin do we owe you?"

"Nothing, nothing at all – honestly," she added as Gendry looked as though he would argue.

"Very well, but if ever we can do something for you just ask," he said and she nodded her head.

"I ought to go," Dany said, moving to pick up her cloak.

"You don't have to on our account," Gendry said.

"No, you don't have to leave yet," Joren added from where he was stacking the firewood.

"No honestly, I have left Robb and Edric alone far too long, the Gods know what they have been getting up to," she rolled her eyes.

"You must come again soon," Serra said insistently as she wrapped her cloak about her.

"I will, I promise," Dany said, "and if you need anything you know where I am."

"I do, thank you," Serra nodded, moving towards the door to open it for her.

"I will go quickly so I don't let the heat out," Dany said, slipping out as she opened it, "take care of yourselves!"

"Take care!" she heard them all call back to her as she made her way out into the freezing afternoon.

* * *

Ned was crossing the courtyard, pulling his cloak further about him as he returned to the keep from the Maester's tower with a huge grin on his face. He caught sight of Dany approaching the other way as he walked, no doubt having returned from the Cassels. He hailed her when he drew close enough and she lifted her bowed head and sent a smile his way, her steps slowing a little so he could catch up to her. "You look happy my lord, I must say," she said in an amused tone as they climbed the steps. "There is much to be happy about," he said joyfully and she raised her brows.

"Pray tell," she said but he shook his head, chuckling slightly as the doors to the keep were opened up for them. "Not until all the family are together," he told her, "the sooner they are they sooner you'll know," he said.

"I'd best help you find them then," she said when they reached the entrance hall, the guards closing the heavy doors behind them. "Indeed, you'd best had," he said and she made at once for the stairs, no doubt to find Robb. He himself decided to walk down the hallways to the gallery where his three youngest children would likely be sparring. Lessons for the day would have ended by now and he would wager almost anything that that would be where he found them. He was not wrong and none of them seem to be impressed that they had to abandon their sparring but Ned was in too good a mood to let their grumbling affect him as they trailed him back down the hallways towards the main parlour.

Dany had already returned with Robb, both of them sat on the sofa with their eyes fixed on Edric who seemed transfixed by the fire as he sat at Robb's feet. "Where's your mother?" Ned directed to his eldest son and he shrugged. "No idea," Robb told him and he sighed heavily. "Typical," Ned muttered, shaking his head as the other three settled themselves down in a rather ungracious manner. He only rolled his eyes at them as they narrowed their own in his direction. "You can carry on afterwards," he said and they looked placated, although he could tell that Arya was still intent on continuing to sulk.

"What are you all doing in here?" Catelyn sounded surprised and a little bit suspicious as she entered the room, closing the door behind her before looking expectantly at Ned. "We've received news from the Capitol," he said and his wife's eyes widened at once.

"Sansa?" she demanded, "Is it the baby?"

"A healthy boy," Ned could keep it in no longer and Catelyn clasped her hands to her mouth.

"Is Sansa alright?" Dany asked and he nodded his head.

"Both the Queen and the Prince are well," he said, his voice laced with pride.

"Oh thank the Gods," Catelyn said, beaming now as she moved her hands away.

"Did they name him?" Robb asked, hauling his own son onto his lap as Edric decided to make for the flames.

"Prince Aelyx," Ned told them all.

"Gods another perfect little grandson," he couldn't help but beam at the glee in Catelyn's voice.

"Perfect?" Robb muttered, glancing at Edric who was making his displeasure at being picked up known to anyone who would listen.

"He will be named at the turn of the moon, we will have to send a gift," Ned said.

"Such a shame we cannot go with the weather as it is," Catelyn said, a hint of regret sneaking into her voice.

"I promise you now, we will all go together to the Capitol as soon as the roads allow us passage," he said.

"Do we have to?" Arya asked.

"Of course you have to," Catelyn said, "do you not want to meet you nephew?"

"If won't be like last time Arya, I promise you," Ned said, "besides…once spring arrives I imagine Aegon will be like to throw a tourney…"

"A tourney?!" Bran burst out.

"You wouldn't want to miss that," Ned said in amusement.

"I can't wait for spring!" Rickon called happily and he rolled his eyes.

"So none of you will want to stay behind then?" Ned asked in amusement.

"What happened to a Stark always having to be at Winterfell?" Catelyn asked with a knowing smile.

"I think we can make an exception," Ned said, "just this once mind you…"

* * *

_Storm's End_

* * *

"Welcome back my lord," the guards greeted him simultaneously as they opened up the doors and allowed him to step through them. "Thank you," he said, bestowing a tired smile on them as he walked into the entrance hall. "Where is my lady?" he asked as he went to unclasp his heavy travelling cloak from around his neck. "My lady is in the nursery I believe my lord," one of them responded to him as the doors were firmly shut against the coldness again. Jon thanked them again before making his way towards the stairs, hanging his cloak across the bannister as he went.

He walked wearily up the stairs, the journey back from Aegon's council had been a rough one and he was glad of the six months he would now have back here with Margaery and Steffon. Just as he reached the top of the stairs Steffon's delighted shrieks rang out and Jon's mouth split into a grin as he saw the little boy toddling as fast as his legs would carry him down the hallway. As he drew closer Jon bent down to catch him in his arms, listening to his happy babbling which only half made sense to Jon. Margaery seemed able to understand almost everything that came from Steffon's mouth but he had to admit that he sometimes struggled, especially when the little boy got excited.

"And here I was hoping I could get him calm and settled before leaving him with his nurses for the night…he will be impossible now," he could hear the smile in Margaery's voice and he looked up from embracing Steffon to see her strolling down the hallway. "You are a sight for sore eyes," he said, standing up and hauling Steffon with him, placing the boy on his hip before moving closer to his wife. "Have I changed much?" she asked him with a teasing smile, her hand coming to rest on her rounded stomach as Jon leant in to kiss her in greeting. "More beautiful than ever," he said honestly, moving his free hand to rest on the swell; "how is our baby?"

"Moving more every day, boy or girl it is strong," she said proudly.

"Boy or girl I cannot wait to meet them," he grinned at her and she beamed.

"Only three more moons my love," she said, excitement lacing her voice.

"I can hardly wait," he told her, leaning in to kiss at her lips again, only pulling away when Steffon bashed at his shoulder insistently.

"Steffon…gently," Margaery scolded him gently and he ceased after a moment.

"We should get you to your nurses little one, it's near your bed time," Jon told him, prodding his ribs lightly and making him squirm.

"No bed papa," he said, shaking his head and Jon froze, his eyes darting at once to Margaery who's own eyes had widened slightly.

He supposed they ought to have expected this to happen eventually but they had never spoken about what to do when it did. Should they correct him now? Would Steffon even understand it if they did? Jon tried to remember when he had been told that Lady Stark was not his mother. He couldn't remember it, somewhere in his mind he supposed he had always known. Surely Steffon was too young to understand though… Gods he wished he could read Margaery's mind so he could know what she was thinking, know what the right thing to say was.

"Yes bed," she finally said after a long minute, "everyone is going to sleep now Steffon, come now."

"No mama…" he shook his head and she gave him a look only a mother could give to which he cuddled more into Jon's neck.

"Come to bed now Steffon and I will read you a story," Jon persuaded him, "what do you say?"

Steffon said nothing, he merely nodded his head in a defeated fashion. "Good," Margaery said, "off you go now, sleep well my darling," she moved closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead, her hand seeking out Jon's forearm and clasping tightly around it for a moment. He imagined the gesture was meant to be reassuring, but what if it was a warning? In his mind he decided to ignore what Steffon had said and try not to encourage or discourage it until he had spoken with Margaery properly. He met her eyes when she pulled away and he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Her eyes were soft and understanding and she nodded slightly before moving passed him and down the hallway towards their own chambers. "Come then you, perhaps I can tell you a story of dragons before it gets too late," he said to Steffon, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as he set off towards his nursery.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Jon said as soon as he entered their chambers but Margaery shook he head at once.

"It was a shock," she said, "hearing him say it like that…I know I ought to have expected it but…"

"I know…" he said in understanding, crossing to take the seat next to her on the sofa.

"He will need to be told about Renly…but he is so young Jon he would not understand it," she said.

"Then what do you want to do?" he asked her.

"I always imagined it would be better if he didn't call you papa…but now…" she tailed off, her hands coming to cradle around her bump.

"Now?" he encouraged her and she took a deep breath before meeting his eyes.

"You love him like a son, I know that," she stated and he was nodding his agreement at once.

"I always will," he promised her and she swallowed hard.

"I never want Steffon to feel any differently to this baby," she said, rubbing her belly, "so if he wants to call you papa, then as far as I am concerned he can…so long as you are comfortable with it."

"I'm happy as long as you are," he said at once, coming to lay his hand over hers.

"You know better than me how he will feel once he knows the truth," she said sadly.

"I always knew Lady Stark wasn't my mother, but it never stopped her being one," he said, "Steffon will know the truth as I did…and if he still considers me his father when he does then I will be proud to be so."

"You're such a good man Jon," she smiled, leaning in to embrace him, "such a good father…"

"And I will do my best to remain as such," he murmured against her, "I will be whatever Steffon needs me to be, whenever he needs it…I promise you that."

* * *

**A/N: **I'll have the epilogue up as soon as it's ready. Thanks for being so amazing.

One left...oh my!

:)


	80. Epilogue: Tourney

**A/N: **Sorry this has taken so long, but it's finally here! This is the end, I am actually letting go of this story haha. I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and added this as a favourite. I am so very grateful to you all. I hope you enjoy the last installment, and if you'd like to leave one more review for old times sake then that would be awesome.

Thanks for being patient for this, and thanks for being incredible supports!

:)

* * *

**Epilogue: Tourney**

* * *

_Twenty years later…_

* * *

_Summerhall_

* * *

Jon smiled in satisfaction as he looked around the gleaming, new tourney ground, the beams glinting in the sunlight and the smell of fresh sawdust filling his nostrils. It had taken many years to restore Summerhall to its former glory but it had been done and Jon and his family had taken residence there the previous year. Steffon had remained behind at Storm's End which he had taken control of when he had reached eighteen. They had been back to visit him a few times, most recently for his wedding to Bethany Tully. That was one of the reasons Jon had suggested throwing the tourney, to celebrate their recent union.

Shrieks of laughter and delight reached his ears then and he turned, expecting his daughters, a smile coming to his face when he saw that he was indeed right. Marcia seemed to poise herself with far more dignity that her younger siblings, walking tall behind them as Lyanna and Eleira shoved and giggled with one another as they approached the tourney ground. It did not seem so long ago that Marcia would join in with them but she was a woman grown now, nineteen and recently betrothed. She would meet Daven Martell at this tourney and Jon knew she was nervous and determined to make a good impression before their wedding, which was due to take place a few months from now. That would mean a trip to Dorne, and everyone already seemed most excited about the prospect.

The seamstresses would be kept busy indeed over the next months, Jon wagered. That was the peril of having a wife and three daughters he supposed, though he would never dare complain about it. Thank the Gods he had little Ned now that they were parted from Steffon, without a little male company in his life Jon imagined that he would go utterly mad. Ned had been a surprise, born three years ago when both he and Margaery had been almost certain that they would have no more children. It had been a difficult birth, with more complications than Jon cared to remember, but he had arrived eventually, red faced and squalling. He smiled wistfully when he remembered Margaery's exhausted but triumphant smile. _"There, I know you have had to be patient…but you have your son and heir at last."_

"Girls!" Jon waved them over as they drew closer, "What do you think of it?"

"It's perfect father, I cannot wait for everyone to arrive and the tourney to begin!" Lyanna grinned.

"How many knights are coming?" Eleira asked him.

"None that I would care to betroth you to, that's for certain," Jon told her and she pouted.

"Who do you wager will win?" Marcia asked next.

"I think any man would still have a hard time beating your uncle Bran," Jon smiled.

"Will you wager?" Eleira inquired.

"The way you girls are spending coin on dresses I will have to wager, if only to win some coin back," Jon teased them and they all burst into giggles at once.

* * *

Robb rode at the side of his father as they entered the main courtyard, both of them scanning their surroundings. Over the years since spring had come and been followed by summer there had been many a tourney held at various great venues across the kingdoms. This was the first at the newly restored Summerhall though and Robb marvelled at how well it had been rebuilt. Everything looked so new and grand. He grinned as they halted their procession, his eyes finding Jon and his family waiting to receive them at the doors. "Little Ned has grown," Robb commented to his father as they dismounted. "Children have a tendency to do that, you should know," his father retorted and Robb nodded his agreement, thinking of his own three as he moved to help Dany down from her horse.

"This place is incredible," she said wondrously as he settled her feet down on the ground. He murmured his agreement, allowing her a moment to survey her new surroundings as he moved to help their daughter from her horse before Ralf Greyjoy could get any ideas. Catrin was fifteen and growing far too beautiful for her own good, Robb would wager that Ralf had begun thinking of her as more than a friend a long time ago. "Where's your brother?" Robb asker her, his eyes scanning the large party that had come from Winterfell, seeking out Benjen in the crowd. "He has been badgering uncle Bran the whole way," Catrin reported to him and Robb was unsurprised. "Your uncle Bran needs a taste of his own medicine believe me," he told her and she grinned before her attention was caught by Dany ushering her along.

Robb's eyes found Edric before they found Benjen, his eldest son carefully leading his wife through the crowd and towards the keep. Alysanne kept one of her hands resting on her slightly swollen stomach and Robb shook his head slightly. He still could not believe that he was set to be a grandfather in mere months. Sometimes he looked at Edric and wondered where the time had gone. It had seemed like the blink of an eye since he had been born and all of a sudden he had been agreeing his match to Torrhen Karstark's eldest daughter. Now they were set to be parents and Robb's head had not stopped spinning since the announcement had been made. "Benjen, come now!" he called out, finally spotting his younger son, still indeed seeming badgering Bran.

Benjen came with a rather sulky look on his face to which Robb raised his brows. "None of that," he said, "if your mother catches you with that look on your face there will be trouble." Benjen scowled for a moment before he rearranged his features into far more gracious ones. "Better?" his son asked and Robb chuckled, ruffling his hair before placing his arm around his shoulders and steering him towards the keep. "Will you enter the lists father?" Benjen asked him and Robb shook his head at once. "By the Gods no, I am too old…best leave it to the young knights," he said.

"I wish I could enter the lists," Benjen sighed wistfully and Robb tried to keep the smile from his face, Gods he was like Bran. "You are only ten, you have a few years yet before you are entering anything," Robb told him as they approached the steps of the keep, Dany and Catrin already embracing everyone and exchanging greetings. "Good to see you," Jon grinned as they arrived and Robb grinned back, releasing his hold on Benjen and moving forward to embrace Jon. "How was your journey?" Jon asked him when they broke apart.

"Good," Robb nodded, "long but good."

"By the Gods, he's grown!" his mother exclaimed just behind him when she caught sight of little Ned who was clinging to Marcia's leg.

"And pretending to be shy," Margaery commented, "it's such a shame he cannot always be like that."

"Have any of the others arrived yet?" Robb asked as everyone else continued with their greetings.

"Steffon's banners have been seen so he ought to be here soon, and Aegon is scheduled to arrive before sundown with the Royal court," Jon told him.

"Will we be feasting tonight?" Dany asked.

"Naturally," Margaery smiled, "but I would wager you could all use some wine beforehand?"

"One would not say no," Dany smiled back at her.

"Then come on," Jon gestured towards the keep, "come and see what we've done with the place."

* * *

"Looks like we arrived just in time," Steffon commented from the doorway and his mother was up on her feet at once, abandoning the wine she had just been poured. "Gods, we didn't hear a thing or we would have been out to greet you!" she exclaimed, catching him in an embarrassingly tight embrace which he returned before gently prising her away. "No matter, likely you were all making too much noise," he said and she swatted his arm lightly before she moved to greet his wife. Steffon in his turn moved his attention to embrace his step-father. "Father," he greeted as they embraced swiftly before breaking apart; "this place looks amazing."

"Worth all the trouble in the end," his step-father grinned at him and Steffon nodded his agreement before greeting his sisters. "Come and sit down Bethany," his mother was ushering his wife to a place as he finally managed to prise Eleira away before Ned clamped himself around his leg. "What's gotten into him?" Steffon asked, bending down and hauling his little brother up and setting him on his hip. "Apparently he's shy," his mother told him wryly and he chuckled, poking the little boy in the ribs lightly until he coaxed a giggle out of him. "That's better," Steffon said with a grin before he made his way over to sit next to Bethany. Ned seemed to cling even tighter around his neck as he did so and he sighed heavily.

"Must you Ned?" he asked exasperatedly, "Come now…you remember Bethany?" Ned stubbornly shook his head at his words and Steffon sighed again, sending his wife an apologetic look. "It has been some time," Bethany said in understanding. "Don't take it personally," Lady Stark spoke up, "he has been this way with all of us."

"How is everyone?" Steffon asked the group at large and everyone seemed to murmur happy sentiments towards him and he nodded, a smile on his face. He raised a brow as he set his eyes on Alysanne, his eyes sliding from her to Edric; "some are better than others I would wager," he said with a wink and Edric grinned at him. "Aye, I can't complain," Edric said, the wide smile on his face as he moved his hand to lay affectionately on his wife's stomach. "Are your mother and father coming Bethany?" Lady Stark asked, "I did write to Edmure but you know what he's like."

"They will arrive tomorrow, mother has been trying to persuade Hostor not to ride but I do not think she has been successful," Bethany told her before her eyes slid to Steffon's, the pair of them exchanging a knowing look. They had only been married a few months but he was rather fond of his wife already. At first he had just been pleased to find her beautiful and eager to please him in the bedchamber. On speaking more and more with her though he found her rather funny and pleasant company. His irritation at a match being found for him with a stranger had long since vanished, Bethany was rather more than adequate.

He realised he had been looking at her for too long then and he averted his eyes, seeing the light blush on her cheeks as he did so. Steffon cleared his throat slightly and set about prising his little brother's hands from around his neck. "Are any others arriving today?" he asked.

"The King and the court," his step-father answered him, "in fact…that may well be them now…"

* * *

They were all filing out and lining up to greet them when Aegon rode in at the head of the party, Sansa at his side and their children riding in just behind them. When he pulled up and dismounted he moved to help his wife down from her own mount before helping Alerie and Rhaesana from theirs. Aelyx and Jahaerys dismounted at the same time and fell into step behind Aegon and Sansa as they walked towards those waiting to greet them. Even after all the years of being King, Aegon still found it intensely uncomfortable when so many lords and ladies bowed down before him. He was gesturing them up at once before moving to greet Jon first.

"I can't believe the transformation, it's wonderful," he said after they had embraced one another. "Truly incredible," Sansa echoed his sentiments before she stepped forward, Jon taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. She moved down the line after that to greet her parents and he followed down after her as the children seemed to have forgotten about propriety and begun to reacquaint themselves with friends and family. "You look well Sansa," Lady Stark was smiling at his wife and she beamed back, embracing her mother carefully. "As do you, you are better now, aren't you?" Sansa asked in concern.

"Of course, your father saw to that, I was not allowed to leave our chambers for near a month," Lady Stark said with a roll of her eyes and Aegon smiled at the sight. It had been a worrying time for Sansa when word had come that her mother was sick. She had been on the verge of leaving for Winterfell when Robb had sent word that the worst had passed and that she was expected to fully recover. "I am overjoyed at seeing you so well my lady," Aegon told his good-mother honestly then and she reached up and patted his cheek in an affectionate manner that only a mother could possess; "thank you, your Grace."

"My look at you, you've grown!" Lord Stark's chuckling pulled their attention then and Aegon and Sansa shared a smile as Rhaesana went barrelling into her grandfather. "I missed you!" Rhaesana exclaimed when she pulled back, moving next to embrace her grandmother before turning her attention back to Lord Stark; "I have been learning all about the North and all about Winterfell with my Septa!"

"Indeed," Lord Stark said warmly, "perhaps when we are all settled down in the keep you can tell me all about it?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "And you can help me with the things I don't know."

"I will certainly try, but doubtless a clever little thing like you would know more than I," he smiled.

"Perhaps we ought to go back inside, give everyone a chance to relax before dinner?" Margaery suggested.

"That would be most welcome, thank you," Sansa smiled.

"Yes, thank you," Aegon echoed, glancing back over his shoulder to look for his remaining children; "Sansa, do you have any idea where Alerie has gone?"

"She was there a moment ago I'm certain of it," she said; "perhaps she has already gone inside?"

"Yes," Aegon nodded, offering her his arm, "most likely."

* * *

This was reckless and dangerous and he knew it but he hadn't been able to help himself. He had barely had a moment with her on the journey, and when he had seen her stood slightly apart as everyone else had been exchanging greetings he hadn't been able to resist pulling her away. Hopefully his own parents had not been suspicious, he had not seen them for over a year and almost as soon as he had arrived he was making excuses to get away from them. He could catch up to them later, all he could think of now was how good she felt under his touch and how amazing it felt to taste her again, to feel the murmur of pleasure pass between her mouth and his.

Gods he was a fool, a bigger fool than his father had ever been but he had never been able to resist her, not from the first moment he had been summoned to her father's presence. He had been in the Capitol a year when he had been summoned to him, word of his quick wits and head for numbers had drawn his attention. When he had gone to him he hadn't known what to expect but it had not been his own merchant's fleet, not at his age. He had gone to the Capitol to earn his fortune because he had none to inherit, he had never expected to make so much. In all honesty it was almost too much, but he knew he would throw it all into the Blackwater for a chance to win her hand.

He knew it were next to impossible. She was a Princess in all but name and he was the mere son of a former lord who had long since renounced his birth right. Sometimes he almost resented his father for that but then he would remind himself why and guilt would bubble up in him. In his father's shoes he had no doubt that he would have made the very same decision. He still sometimes dreamed that he had not renounced his title though, so that he would at least have a chance, however small, of being with the woman he dreamed of night and day. Deep down he knew he had no chance, but his own parent's marriage had him almost believing that anything were possible if you were prepared to fight for it. If you loved it enough.

He would fight for her given the chance, and Gods, he already knew he loved her.

"Darion Greyjoy!" his mother's voice pulled him away from the kiss just as he had pulled her closer to his body and allowed his hands to roam down towards her firm bottom. They broke apart at once and he snapped his head around to meet his mother's astonished gaze. "With me, now," she practically snarled and he cringed, regretfully letting Alerie go, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide as she looked between them. He tried to think of something to say but she had stepped away from the wall and almost fled down the hallway and out of sight before he could even muster up the words.

* * *

"What in the name of the Gods are you thinking?!" Adele demanded.

"Adele…calm down," Theon said soothingly from his chair by the fire.

"Calm?!" she repeated incredulously, "Did you not hear me?! Do you not realise what your son has done?!"

"I haven't done anything…it was just a kiss I -," Darion started.

"Don't give me that," Adele snarled, "and besides, even if it were just a kiss she is the King's daughter! Does that register in your mind? He has given you an opportunity thousands of young men in your positon would kill for and you repay that by dishonouring his daughter!"

"I never dishonoured her," Darion said defiantly, shaking his head.

"Gods Darion," she groaned, "what are you thinking, what in the name of the Gods have you done?"

"Adele sit down," Theon finally intervened, getting up from his own place and steering her towards a chair of her own; "get your mother some wine."

"Theon will you please talk some sense into him?" Adele asked him desperately and he sighed.

"What did we always promise?" he asked her in return, keeping his voice low so their son wouldn't hear them.

"About what?" she frowned.

"About the children," he said with a raised brow and realisation crossed her features; "We always promised they could choose their own path, since we have not one of our own to guide them down."

"But Theon, she is the King's daughter," Adele said in an agonised tone, "I want our children to marry for love, of course I do, but not when that love could lead to their death."

"You really think the King would kill him for loving his daughter?" Theon raised his brows.

"Are you telling me you wouldn't in his position, if it were Asha or Shara?" Adele asked him and Theon scowled, she had him there.

* * *

"Something's bothering you," Sansa said knowingly as she braided Alerie's hair for her before bed. Her step-daughter wanted her hair in waves for the tourney and this was the best way for them to create the style. Alerie sighed slightly, meeting Sansa's eye in the mirror and Sansa could almost see the conflict in her eyes. She was clearly apprehensive about telling her anything, no doubt worrying that she would go straight to Aegon with whatever it was. That only led Sansa to believe that it was something she would rather her father didn't know. "Whatever it is Alerie, it will stay between us, I promise you that," Sansa said, holding her gaze in the mirror.

"There's a man," Alerie said slowly and Sansa raised a brow. "I see," she commented as Alerie averted her eyes and began playing with her fingernails. "I haven't compromised my honour but I have allowed him to take certain…_liberties,_" Alerie told her, still avoiding her gaze and Sansa paused in what she was doing for a moment to carefully consider her next words. "How long has this been going on?" she finally asked.

"Near two years," Alerie told her and Sansa's brows practically shot up into her hairline. How in the name of the Gods had Alerie managed to sneak around for so long? Varys was obviously losing his touch, perhaps she ought to warn Aegon about that at least. "I love him, and I believe he loves me," Alerie continued and Sansa finished the braid she had been working on and tied it securely before she opened her mouth again. "I can only assume the reason that you have said nothing of this is because your father will disapprove?" Sansa raised a brow.

"He is of noble blood, but his family own no lands nor castles," Alerie told her, "he has made his fortune at the Capitol and I have no doubt he could provide for me. I don't know why father would not consider him, especially considering my status…"

"Your father regards you as a Princess, you know that," Sansa told her, "you know the only reason he has never given you the Targaryen name is to prevent any would be traitors seeking to use you for their own ends."

"I know that," Alerie said, "and I understand that. But if I were to be married then I would have a name anyway and father wouldn't have to worry about anyone using me. I would never betray him or you, nor any of our family, you know that…"

"Of course I do, and so does your father," Sansa said, "but believe me, that would not stop some people trying. Given this family's history it is only to be expected that he would be a little paranoid about such things. It is not you he doesn't trust Alerie, you know that don't you? Your father loves you, we all do."

"I know," Alerie nodded, meeting Sansa's eyes in the mirror again and they shared a smile. "He would want you to be happy, with a suitable match…who is he? The man?" Sansa asked her, hoping that her step-daughter would confess it to her so she would be able to speak with Aegon about it should he be suitable, or persuade Alerie against it if he were not. "Do you promise you won't tell father?" Alerie asked her almost desperately.

"I promise I will not say anything to him unless I think I can persuade him in your favour," Sansa swore to her and Alerie looked placated. "Darion Greyjoy," she said in a tiny voice and Sansa raised her brows. Truthfully she was not surprised, Darion was often at the keep and he was handsome indeed. She had lost count of the number of times she had caught him and Alerie laughing together or talking lowly in quiet corners. It all made so much sense now and a tiny smile twitched at her lips. Aegon was very impressed with Darion, and had been more than pleased with his progression in his trade. Darion made him a lot of coin, and Alerie would live a comfortable life indeed as his wife. He may have no title, but neither did she officially. Aegon could always bestow lands on them later should he see fit. She smile slightly at Alerie in the mirror, almost certain she could make Aegon see that this was a good idea.

"You leave this with me," Sansa said, taking up Alerie's hair again, "and we will see if you are not betrothed by the end of the tourney."

* * *

"I can't believe you of all people are going to be a father," Steffon commented to Edric as they sat drinking up in one of the parlours with Darion and Aelyx. "What do you mean, _me of all people_?" Edric asked him with a frown and the others all chuckled at him. "I was surprised enough to hear he got married, let alone knew where to put it on the wedding night," Darion winked.

"Oh shut it Greyjoy," Edric punched him in the arm as the laughter increased, "just because I never stuck it in any whore desperate enough to have me."

"Or anyone else for that matter," Steffon grinned and Edric glared at him. "Seriously though, congratulations," he added after a moment and Edric's expression softened a little. "No sign of a babe of your own?" Aelyx asked Steffon with a raised brow and he winked at him. "We're trying…trying very hard," he said suggestively to even more laughter. "When will your own wedding be?" Edric enquired of the Prince who shrugged his shoulders.

"No idea, I think she will come from Highgarden in a few months," Aelyx told them and they nodded, all taking a moment to lose themselves in their cups for a long minute. "Any sign of some dim-witted girl being foolish enough to marry you Greyjoy?" Steffon asked Darion.

"Perhaps," Darion said mysteriously, piquing everyone's interest. "Seriously?" Edric asked him, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "I'm not that fucking unpleasant," Darion said defensively and Steffon snorted. "Seriously, who?" Aelyx asked him.

"I couldn't possibly say," he said and the other three exchanged sceptical glances. "She's special though," Darion continued, "she's very fucking special."

* * *

"You're hiding something from me," Aegon said amusedly as Sansa readied herself for bed.

"How can you possibly know that?" she asked him.

"You're my wife," he said simply, "I know. And besides, you didn't deny it."

"And now I suppose you expect me to tell you?" she turned expectantly to him.

"If you need to," he said and she sighed heavily before approaching the bed where he was reclining.

"You know you have always been impressed with Darion Greyjoy?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said, frowning slightly and propping himself up against the pillows.

"Well…it seems you are not the only one," she said and his frown deepened.

"What are you trying to say?" he asked, "I'm too tired for you to be cryptic."

"Alerie, she's in love with him," Sansa said and he sat bolt-upright; "nothing has happened…" she soothed him at once, "but she is certain he returns her feelings."

"Nothing?" he said sceptically, his eyes darting between her and the door.

"Well…perhaps not nothing…but she swore her honour is intact," she told him and he relaxed slightly.

"What do you think?" he asked her after a long moment.

"I think it would make her happy, and I think you have nothing to fear from the match," she said.

"He has been unwaveringly loyal," Aegon said almost grudgingly.

"Alerie is a woman grown, it's past time she was wed," she said and he nodded.

"I know, you're right," he sighed heavily, "I will speak with both of them tomorrow."

* * *

Ned walked around the tourney ground after breaking his fast, leaving Catelyn with Dany and Catrin to get ready. Sansa would no doubt arrive with her own daughter soon enough and there were only so many exclamations about fine silks and hairstyles that he could take. This was much preferable, breathing in the fresh morning air and watching the squires and the servants bustling around and making last minute preparations. He saw Bran and Rickon near the paddock and smiled slightly, seeing them both surveying the tourney ground, swords already on their hips and mail in place. Bran was the superior jouster but Rickon was very quick on his feet, making him rather formidable when it came to hand-to-hand.

Even though he knew his sons were skilled he still felt as though his heart stopped in his chest the moment before lances clashed or swords were drawn. At least Robb had packed it up now, although Ned suspected Dany had more to do with that than anything. Bran had never shown any inclination to marry but Rickon had finally wed the previous year after meeting Marissa Mormont at the tourney at Riverrun. Arya had been much the same as Bran, and Ned watched her now as she crossed the grounds clad in her usual tunic and breeches. She had never taken part in tourneys but only because no man would step up and face her. That was until Harrion Karstark had stepped up at the first tourney of spring and challenged her. The price of his victory was her hand and she had given it with good grace in the end.

They had a son now, Rickard was three and his parents already had him with a sword in hand. Likely he would be the heir to Bran's tourney success eventually, although Bran showed no sign of stopping any time soon. "What do you think of the place?" Ned turned to see Jon appraising him and he smiled.

"Likely it won't be a tourney to forget, how are you settling?" Ned asked him.

"Well enough, Margaery will likely have changed everything by the turn of the year," Jon huffed.

"Best watch your coffers," Ned teased him and Jon rolled his eyes.

"You think you're joking," he said, "a good thing our lands are fruitful is all I can say."

"Aye, you've done well for yourself Jon," Ned nodded his head, surveying the scene again; "you all have."

* * *

"You look rather traumatised," Dany commented to Aegon as she came across him in the gardens.

"I didn't think anyone else would be out here," he replied.

"Catrin wanted some roses for her hair, Margaery said she didn't mind," Dany told him.

"I'll give you a hand," Aegon said, falling into step with her as they walked towards the bushes.

"Nothing serious has happened has it?" she asked him.

"I think I might have just promised my daughter in marriage," Aegon said, almost looking confused.

"Think?" she repeated, trying not to smile.

"Well…I gave Darion Greyjoy permission to ask for her hand at the tourney," he said, his brow furrowing as though he could not quite remember doing such a thing.

"Darion Greyjoy?" Dany repeated with wide eyes.

"Apparently he and Alerie have fallen in love right under my nose," he said with a sigh.

"I don't think any father wants to admit his daughter has fancies for a man, you should talk to Robb," she told him and he raised his own brows in response.

"Should I?" he asked.

"Oh yes, he spends half his life chasing Ralf Greyjoy away from Catrin," Dany told him wryly.

"Damn Greyjoys," he muttered under his breath.

"Darion was raised by good parents," Dany soothed him.

"I know," Aegon agreed, "and I know he has the means to provide for her, and he is no lordly upstart who would even think to use her in rebellion."

"She would never let herself be used in rebellion, Alerie is not the sort of girl to do anything she does not want to," Dany reminded him.

"I know," he said again, his expression slightly wistful, "she gets that from her mother."

"Have you heard anything recently?" she asked tentatively.

"Not for many years," Aegon said, "she's married herself now, with two boys…and her nephew. She writes to Alerie…that's as far as it's ever gone."

"Do you think they will ever meet?" she persisted and he sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"Perhaps, perhaps not…Sansa is the only true mother Alerie knows and Val always knew it would happen that way. Alerie used to be curious, but she has never made mention of wanting to meet her," he told her.

"Perhaps one day," Dany said quietly.

"Perhaps," Aegon agreed, smiling slightly regretfully before he moved closer to the rose bushes; "now we'd best pick some of these, we don't want Catrin kept waiting."

* * *

Bran pushed down his helm, his horse pawing at the ground restlessly as he received his lance from the squire with a distracted thanks. He adjusted his grip and pulled on the reins, his horse obeying his wordless command. His eyes flickered up to the Royal box and he saw Sansa stand and walk to the edge, her favour in her hands. As tradition the queen would signal the start of the final bout and Bran kept one eye on her and one eye on his opponent. Hostor Tully had ridden well, his cousin was younger than him and likely fitter but Bran had all the experience and he was determined to use it now. Almost in slow motion Sansa dropped her favour and Bran dug his heels in hard.

The horses thundered towards one another, the crowds cheering but Bran barely heard them as he shifted his grip on his lance. Hostor was mere feet away now. Just another few seconds and they would meet. He steeled himself, aiming carefully, not wanted to cause any unwanted damage to his opponent. The lance struck true, Hostor's own missing Bran by a whisper and causing him to shift slightly in his saddle. He was slightly unbalanced but he kept himself upright, looking back to see Hostor pushing himself up off the ground. Bran allowed a sigh of relief on seeing him getting gingerly back up to his feet, before he raised his hand up to acknowledge the cheering crowd. A squire came to relieve him of his lance and he pulled his helm from his head once his hands were free, grinning up at where his family were sat.

This was to be his last joust, not that he had told anyone else that, and he was glad that it had occurred here at Summerhall in the newly created tourney grounds. He caught Jon's eye and inclined his head, a wide smile on both of their faces. Likely this would not be the last tourney Jon threw but from now on Bran would be a mere spectator. He dismounted his horse, passing his helm to the squire and pulling off his gauntlets as he walked towards Hostor. His cousin grinned at him at his approach, his hand already held out to grasp Bran's. Their hands met and they pulled one another into an embrace for a moment before turning to acknowledge the crowd again. "It'll not be long before you win," Bran told Hostor, "you're good, for a moment I thought you had me."

"So did I," Hostor said wryly, "perhaps next time." Bran's lips turned upwards at that and he clapped his cousin on the back. "Perhaps next time," Bran agreed.

* * *

Jaime had cursed all the way back to their chambers and Jeyne had had to try very hard not to burst into laughter, her lips set as she trailed behind him. "Damn Starks," he cursed again and she frowned at him. "I told you that you were a fool for placing your coin elsewhere," she told him pointedly and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I had to wager on Tommen, what kind of uncle would bet against him?" Jaime asked her and she sighed heavily. "You didn't have to place quite so much, and you know you could have placed more than one wager," she soothed him and he muttered darkly under his breath.

"Come now, paint on your best smile husband, there is a feast to attend tonight," she said brightly, crossing to the dresser and pulling out her new gown. She could feel Jaime's eyes on her as she moved about the place and she could only hope that he was calming himself down. He crossed to her after a moment and began easing her laces free and she smiled slightly, leaning back against him as he continued unthreading her bodice. "If it makes you feel any better, I believe Myrcella placed rather a lot of coin on Bran," Jeyne told him and he merely huffed in response.

His lips came to her neck as he eased her bodice down and she sighed happily in response. Before he could continue though there was a great crash from the room just beyond their and he was cursing again, moving away from her. "Don't be too angry with them," Jeyne cautioned him as she slipped her dress the rest of the way off and pulled on her other one as she heard Jaime opening the door. "It depends what they've broken and whether I have to pay to replace it," he said darkly before striding out. Jeyne tied her laces quickly and arranged her skirts before she made to follow on after him. "Vayon! Johanna!" he was shouting as she pulled open the door.

"Oh," she said, seeing the remains of a rather beautiful vase littering the floorboards. "They're hiding," Jaime told her and she fought a smile on seeing his exasperated look. "I'm sure Jon will understand," Jeyne soothed him, "after all he does have four children of his own."

"If you two don't get out here now then you will not be coming to the feast!" Jaime called out then and slowly Jeyne saw the door of the large dresser in the corner open up. "Now," he growled at them and they came one at a time, their golden heads bowed in what Jeyne imagined they thought was a meek action. In her eyes it only served to make them look even more guilty and she could even see Jaime trying to fight a smile now. As stern as he appeared with them the twins more often than not got let off for their bad behaviour. Their big brown eyes blinked up in unison in the next moment and Jeyne could see her husband was going to crumble. "Clean this up and then get ready for the feast," he said sternly, "and I don't want to hear a peep out of you for the rest of the day."

* * *

"You've outdone yourself as ever," Jon murmured to Margaery, "how much is this costing me?"

"Can you not just enjoy the evening husband, this tourney was your idea remember?" she replied.

"Of course I remember, I just can't quite remember why you didn't talk me out of it," he said and she laughed slightly before leaning in a pressing a light kiss to his lips. "Have you seen our daughter?" she asked him quietly when she pulled back and he turned his head at once to see Marcia being led out to dance by Daven Martell. He wasn't quite sure how he was feeling about his daughter's betrothal now that she had met the man she was to marry. Before it had all seemed like such a long time ago and yet now it was only around the corner. "She's grown up," Jon sighed after a moment, "when did that happen?"

"I have no idea," Margaery said wryly, "it could be worse…I was half expecting Steffon to announce that he and Bethany are expecting. At least we don't have to consider being grandparents just yet."

"Does it make you feel old my love?" he teased her and she nudged him in the ribs in response.

"I must say you're handling it better than Robb," she commented.

"What do you mean?" Jon asked, scanning the nearby table for him.

"He's sat more stiffly than the statues in the garden, Catrin appears to be dancing with Ralf," Margaery told him and Jon snorted.

"He's fighting a losing battle," he said, "the one thing Robb is incapable of is saying no to his little girl."

"Indeed," Margaery agreed, "although you are hardly any better."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I hope you're looking forward to getting the bill from the jewellers," she raised a brow, "the girls look beautiful, don't you think?"

"Always," Jon replied and she smiled widely at him.

"You spoil them, you always have," she said and he couldn't disagree with her as he roved his eyes around the room to check where they all were, not seeing anything to trouble him.

* * *

Robb felt Dany lay her hand against his forearm but his body still seemed incapable of relaxing. "It's just a dance," his wife said in an exasperated tone but still he didn't move his eyes from Catrin. "He has wandering hands," he said by way of explanation and Dany snorted in amusement. "He's Theon's son, what do you expect?" she asked him and he couldn't help but twitch his lips up in response. "I expect him to remember that my daughter is a highborn lady," he said.

"He would never, he wouldn't dare, Adele would string him up for a start," Dany soothed him and he was faintly placated. Still he kept an eye on them though, as it seemed as though Ralf was not the only man in the great hall who had eyes for Catrin. "That dress is rather southern," he said after another moment and he could almost feel Dany rolling her eyes. "You never complained when I wore it," she said and a smile stretched across his face. "I thought I recognised it," he said, finally turning away from his daughter and appraising his beaming wife; "from your eighteenth name day," he breathed and she nodded, leaning in closer to him.

"That was all so long ago," she smiled, "and she has had her eye on that dress since she found it five years ago. I promised when she was old enough for it to fit her that she could wear it, and I think she looks beautiful in it."

"She does," Robb agreed with a heavy sigh, "that's the problem."

* * *

Aegon was not looking forward to this but one encouraging nod from Sansa gave him the strength he needed to get to his feet and call the attention to the hall. His eyes flickered to Alerie as everyone quietened down, his eyes searching his daughter's features for any hint of doubt. There was none. She was beaming from ear to ear and Darion next to her looked as though he could barely believe his luck. Aegon took a breath before he brought a smile to his own face and opened his mouth to address the hall.

"Honoured guests," he began, "I have a few words, and an announcement. Firstly, I would like to thank my brother, the Lord of Summerhall, and his lady wife for organising such a wonderful tourney here for us. We have been truly blessed to have been entertained and kept in such comfort and company," there was applause at that and Aegon raised his glass to Jon and Margaery, seeing them return the gesture. "And now, it is my great pleasure to announce the betrothal of my daughter, the Lady Alerie," he gestured to where she was sat and motioned for her to stand; "to Ser Darion Greyjoy."

Darion stood then as well and the hall erupted into applause again, a few people whispering in surprise to one another. Aegon had knighted Darion in haste at the beginning of the tourney, bestowing lands on him near the Capitol as well as quarters within the Red Keep and a warning to never harm a hair on his daughter's head. The young man had agreed gladly and Aegon now felt slightly better about the whole thing, even more so when he saw how happy he had made Alerie with his decision. They would marry on their return to the Capitol and he knew that plans were already in full swing thanks to Sansa.

"And finally," Aegon tore his eyes away from the newly betrothed couple, raising his glass high again; "to a secure Westeros, and a long summer!"

"A long summer!" the cry was echoed throughout the hall, glasses clinking together and the sounds of happy feasting resuming as Aegon sat himself back down with a sigh of contentment, Sansa's hand slipping into his as he settled down. "Well done," she murmured and he squeezed her hand in response.

* * *

"I'm too old for this," Ned commented as he and Catelyn wandered down the hallways to their chambers. "Nonsense," his wife returned as he came to a halt and pushed open their door. "I'll be a great grandfather soon enough," he reminded her and she laughed lightly as they made their way inside. "As I will be a great grandmother," she added as he sat heavily down in the armchair by the unlit fire. "Come here," he said, patting his lap and she raised her brow. "Are you not too old?" she teased him and he rolled his eyes. "Come here," he repeated and she did as she was told, settling herself down carefully in his lap.

"I'll be glad to go home," he breathed as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "As will I," she agreed with him and his hold on her tightened. "I sometimes wonder what might have happened, had I not told you the truth about Jon," he mused and Catelyn turned her head to better appraise him. "We would not be here now, I am certain of that," she said and he nodded, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. "I wish Lyanna could see it, she would be so proud of him," he said quietly and she pressed a kiss of her own to his forehead. "And she would be proud of you," she told him, "you made Jon the man he is, you may not be his father by blood…but you were in all the ways that matter."

"And you were the mother he needed," he said in response and she smiled slightly. "We didn't do too badly did we?" she asked him in an amused tone and he chuckled lightly, pulling back so he could meet her eyes which were as bright and as beautiful as they had always been. "No," he agreed with a smile; "we didn't do too badly at all."

* * *

**A/N: **The End.

Wow. Thank you all again, it's been a long journey, thanks for sticking with me!

As for future projects, no doubt you will see me pop up again. I still have Butterfly Effect and For His Honour ongoing, but I have other plans up my sleeve so keep an eye out if you so wish!

Goodbye for now you lovely people!

:)


End file.
